Storm Front
by That Hedgie Over There
Summary: They phased away from baseball long ago. Now, having rekindled their love for the sport, Sonic and his pals are recruited in time for the playoffs by a notoriously dominant pitcher who, at the twilight of his career, has just about done it all. The race for the coveted Gold Cup soon becomes a realistic battle against the rust, for they don't call them the Dream Team for nothing...
1. Knuckles Is José Bautista

I hadn't played baseball in an unbearably long time. I used to play every year along with my other pals. Prior to every game, the opposing team captains conducted drafts. It worked out for the most part since there were never more than fifty players in the draft, meaning that each team in just about every game was fully loaded prior to first pitch.

Everyone in the Turbo League got to play in six games every weekend... except for one.

The Zenith Storm had a long history of futility spanning more than fifty years. Admittedly, they were never the most fun to watch. And yet despite their futility, their fanbase was loyal as hell. I don't think any other fanbase was willing to pay so much to watch their team lose every season. Sure, they made the playoffs every so often, but they were often stopped early. The only time they had made the championship round was forty-two years ago... which ended in them getting crushed 19 runs to none. Many of the fans had been dwelling on that fateful playoff run, hoping for something to hope for.

Over the years that followed since I retired from baseball, the squad consisted mainly of a band of misfits. Often they were rejected by other squads in the league, known for committing costly errors, or just plain being bad ball players. But they had Zenith the Hedgehog — perhaps the greatest pitcher ever to step on a pitcher's mound, notching more than 10,000 strikeouts in a career that lasted fifty-one seasons. He loved baseball that much, he just couldn't give it up. There was something about the sport that drove him to keep playing. Maybe it was the fact that he'd never won a championship, which, after all these years, you'd think he'd have achieved by now. But, nope. He'd done everything but.

Before this season started, Zenith did the unthinkable and announced his own retirement following the conclusion of the season, and the season quickly morphed into one to remember. The team started out ok, then rode an eight-game winning streak to finish the season with an impressive 22-8 record, locked in a tie for first place in the division with the Aleena Shades, because my mother came out of hiding to take over Shadow's old team and arguably the Storm's most hated rival. The two teams played a one-game tiebreaker game, which the Storm won. It was the team's first division championship in seventeen seasons. This was all done through a list of injuries that plagued ten of their players, and yet expectations were at an all-time high all of a sudden, to the point where I found myself tuning in to watch their games. I'd always had some respect for the guy for taking on the huge responsibility of leading this club for fifty-one years, but this year was different. In Zenith's case, there was no more talk of next year. There was no next year. But there was talk of whether the club would fold following Zenith's last game. When the playoffs started, I was getting anxious as to when that day would come. I would've felt bad for the guy were his team to lose out in the end. Eventually I thought to myself: could I help him win the whole thing this year?

The Storm met up with the English Revolution (yes, English was the guy's real name) in the Division Series and swept them in three games. On the surface they looked poised to make a deep playoff run this time around, but would they be able to handle the equally red-hot Demitri Rogues? Personally, I didn't think so.

* * *

"Hey Knuckles! You wanna toss the ball around?"

The red echidna looked at me puzzled. "I don't know, Sonic. I haven't played baseball in ages." He flexed his dominant right arm. "I probably can't even hit anymore. Can you still run?"

"Of course!" I shrugged sheepishly. "I've been running my whole life."

He folded his arms. "Prove it."

"Alright, I will."

I dashed to the top of a nearby skyscraper.

"Over here!" I shouted. Sure enough, the echidna saw me up here and waved.

I dashed back to him. He shrugged. "Fair enough. I guess I can play for a while. I got Hector to watch the Master Emerald for me."

"Great!" I gave him the "thumbs-up". "Meet me at the softball field at the Mazuri Sports Complex with a bat and some balls."

"I'll be there shortly."

As he dashed away, I ran back home, dusted off my old baseball gear, and lugged it to the softball field. A couple of minutes later, Knuckles showed up with Verne the Bat, Knuckles' adopted son, who was carrying a duffel bag full of stitched balls.

"I see what you did there, Knux," noting his lack of an actual baseball bat.

"Heh."

I gave him my bat to use, while Verne rushed for the outfield. I took out a baseball from the duffel bag, then trotted towards the pitcher's mound. Knuckles just stood in front of home plate, holding the bat to his right, staring menacingly at me as I delivered the pitch. He just watched it go by.

"You can throw overhand if you want to," he shouted as he threw the ball back into my glove.

"I think I will, thank you." I stared menacingly at Knuckles before delivering this pitch in an overhand fashion, as I'd promised.

Knuckles took a giant swing at the ball... and missed gloriously.

"STEEEEERIKE ONE!" Verne shouted from behind me.

"Give me a break. I'm rusty," the echidna piped in short response as he threw the ball back to me, staring menacingly at the bat in the outfield. Rusty my cage, for he clobbered my next pitch well over the fence at left center field, over the area where Verne was hanging out, playing Knux to pull the ball there. Knux continued to hold the bat in front of him, staring menacingly at it, before throwing it high into the air in no particular direction. Nice bit of showmanship, Nudillos Bautista. Verne just sighed and shouted, "I got it," hopping over the fence.

"Sonic, you're playing baseball again?" I heard a slightly masculine voice exclaim following the big fly from Knuckles. It was the now middle-aged Tails, who was wearing a pair of bifocals. Along with him he brought Amy, who was pregnant with her second child; Bunnie Rabbot, whose robotic half had been recently reverted to normal; all three Babylon Rogues, no longer wearing goggles as they'd given up hoverboarding; Sticks the Badger, who was now a violin virtuoso; some female raccoon I don't recall having seen before; Silver the Hedgehog, a bestselling electronica singer; Blaze the Cat, whom I'd seen a lot since she moved in near my home; Manic and Sonia, whom I hadn't seen in years; and even Shadow the Hedgehog... same ol' Shadow.

I was in shock when I saw them all here. "Tails! What are you all doing here?!"

The fox continued, "You were gonna play a game of baseball and not invite me? Or Shadow?"

"Whoa, there. Take it easy, pal." One base at a time. "I didn't see you at all today. If you wanted to play..."

"I'm just messing with you, Sonic," he interrupted, as if waving off my confused monologue. "But seriously, can we all join in?"

"Uh, sure," I said nervously. "Why don't six of you team with Knuckles. The rest of you can head onto the field with me and Verne."

"Affirmative."

I was joined on the field by Shadow, Blaze, Bunnie, Silver, Sonia, and Manic, while Tails, Jet, Wave, Storm, Sticks, and the unnamed raccoon took seats on a bench behind the field on the third base side. As Knuckles touched home plate and headed for the bench, Verne met briefly with him, and they had a quick conversation about something, with Knuckles pointing all over the place, before Verne ran back to the outfield.

We played for what seemed like the rest of the night, but in actuality it took maybe two hours. And you know what, it was a rejuvenating experience, like that feeling you get from riding a bike for the first time in years. I was left to question my decision to quit baseball, but it also reminded me that I had an old friend who was going to retire from the sport. I wanted to convince him to keep playing for as long as he could, as long as he still had his greatest talent in him. But I just couldn't do it. He probably had his reasons, so likely nothing would make him change his mind.

Even so, I was — no, _we_ were determined to help him cap off his career with a bang.

* * *

I knocked three times on the door. It opened slowly to reveal a gold-and-maroon-colored cat with a brunette ponytail, a big "M" tattooed on her left forearm, and a bright blue shirt with the outline of a heart on the front.

"Oh! Sonic!" she exclaimed. "Uh, can I help you?"

"Yeah, is Zenith here perchance?"

"At this point in the season?" Her face sported a cold, empty stare. "No, he spends all his time out at the ballpark. He tells me every day he's doing this practice routine, but I've never seen him practice."

I smiled wryly. "Not a baseball fan, are ya?" She shook her head lightly. "You think he'll spend some time with you once the season's over?"

"I hope so." She shrugged. "He tells me this is his last year doing this. How do I know he's telling the truth?"

"Everyone knows that." I smiled again. "They'll hold him to it."

"Pardon me, blokes," I heard another deep masculine voice beckon in a slight accent, strongly telling of his supposedly tragic upbringing, as he tried to scuttle towards the open door.

"Zenith! There you are!" everyone else behind me exclaimed. As we were greeting the tall red hedgehog, the cat smiled and gently shut the door.

"So... what can I do for you?"

I explained our proposition in twenty seconds or less.

"You serious?!" he jolted. "All of you?"

Amy raised her hand. "Well, not me. My hand's busted up enough from your fastball." The rest of us laughed. Zenith couldn't help but smile a little, as though trying not to laugh.

"Wow," he interjected. "Blimey, I don't know..."

He looked away for a second. Then he did a double take.

"Wait, Knuckles...?"

Knuckles nodded. He'd never played on Zenith's squad.

"And Shadow...?"

Shadow also nodded, for the real Shadow and the Shadow prototype had never played together either.

"And... what's your name?"

"Verne the Bat." He pointed towards the scarlet echidna. "He's my old man."

Zenith apparently mouthed the word "wow", evidently in some kind of disbelief, followed by six grueling seconds of the dullish-red hedgehog eyeing us all over. Finally he sighed.

"Practice tomorrow at two."

We all celebrated spontaneously.


	2. Put Up or Shut Up

**Rogues vs. Storm — Game 1**

During batting practice two hours before first pitch, I was stopped by several people. A few of them had cool things to say about our return to baseball, to which I never had much to say. Many of them made heckling comments, my favorite being, "Go back to the retirement home, ya old-timer!" And then there were the media guys who stopped me for interviews. It wasn't just me; virtually the entire squad was participating in these interviews, from Sonic to Tails to even Amy.

Zenith had given us all matching black jerseys that featured an admittedly generic storm cloud on the front and block style numbers of our choice ranging from 0 to my preferred number 27 on the back. He mandated this range ever since the Storm had joined the league, presumably to discourage his teammates from wearing the number 99. It wasn't a league rule, but none of us had ever worn a number greater than 27 anyway, so it was just a matter of picking our favorite numbers. The number 16 was not available because it had curiously been retired many years ago.

After practice had finished, I jogged towards the home plate area, where Sonic and Zenith met with Demitri, a couple of other losers, and the home plate umpire to exchange lineup cards. When the two captains shook hands and trotted back to their dugouts, Sonic curiously sped back to ours, leaving me to accompany Zenith on the long walk there, his home away from home.

"Something on your mind, Z?" Sonic inquired as we both took seats on either side of the blue speedster.

"I just want to get this game under way," he sighed, gazing towards the dugout.

"It will soon, don't worry." He smiled and patted the back of the tall red hedgehog with the notoriously bad hair.

As we took seats on the first bench, I peered at his lineup card hanging near the bullpen phone.

R/R Sonic - RF #15  
L/R Jet - LF #1  
L/L Shadow - CF #27  
R/R Knuckles - C #3  
L/R Storm - DH #20  
L/R Wave - SS #2  
R/R Tails - 1B #10  
L/R Bunnie - 2B #9  
R/R Marine - 3B #11

So Marine was the raccoon's name.

"How come you're not hitting today, Z?"

He shrugged. "I want to see what everyone's got first. I know you and Sonic and Jet can all run, and it looks like Knuckles and Storm can both still hit, and Marine can still play third base." I was amazed by that. "She's extremely agile, and she can throw the ball."

"My gosh..." was all I could say in a brief fit of disbelief. "Looks like you're all set."

He shrugged again. "But then there's figuring out when I'm going to put the other blokes in. They're all part of the team as well." He turned around for a second, where Amy, wearing the number 12, was sitting. "Isn't that right, Amy?"

"You know it!" she beamed, giving us the "thumbs-up". I laughed a little.

All the players, umps, and groundskeepers got up and stood along the baselines for the singing of the Mobian World Anthem. I couldn't help but notice Sonic getting a little emotional during the performance. I certainly couldn't blame him for feeling that way, as neither I nor the Blue Blur had participated in this in years. After the performance, all our guys rushed onto the field to take our positions, while the Rogues trotted back into their dugout.

R/R Jeff - CF #9  
R/R Mina - SS #18  
L/L Flame - RF #24  
R/R Kyle - C #6  
L/R Crush - DH #25  
L/R Rocky - 3B #16  
R/R Tron - LF #51  
L/L Shonen - 1B #77  
R/R Clay - 2B #30

The first guy to step to the plate was Jeff Buck. It made sense.

The fans were loud, almost in an overwhelming fashion. They erupted as Zenith blew his signature fastball by the unsuspecting buck right down the middle for a strike. And again. And a third time, this one being a lethal changeup that got the buck to swing badly. He then got Mina the Mongoose to fly out to Sonic in right field. Finally Flame the Hedgehog was jammed with a cutter, induced into grounding the ball back to Zenith, who made the easy toss to Tails to end the inning. The energy coming from the crowd was exhilarating.

I should've signed back up for this ages ago.

Zenith always walked slowly back and forth between the mound and the dugout in between innings. This occasion was certainly no different, as I would soon find out as I simply trotted towards the dugout. Meanwhile Sonic reached the dugout, took out his bat, and left to take practice swings in time for the start of the next frame, all before Zenith ever reached the dugout. He gave the blue streak the "thumbs-up" as they crossed paths.

As I waited anxiously in the dugout, a train of thought rushed through my mind. Indeed, what with the heated rivalry between our clubs, I had never played baseball on the same team as Zenith. With that in mind, I wondered how this crowd would react when I took my turn at the bat. No, that's kinda silly. I'm obviously squashing any beef we may have on each other... right? I knew I was soon to find out when Sonic struck out on three pitches.

As the cobalt legend returned to the dugout, dragging his bat sluggishly behind him, I dug out my own bat and rushed onto the field, giving the Blue Blur a soft pat on the shoulders, as if to say, "You did your best, pal."

"Oh boy," I said to myself, standing in the on-deck circle in front of our dugout. "Alright, focus. Keep your eye on the ball. First base is that way," pointing in the appropriate direction. I concentrated on the right-handed Demitri Martin, analyzing his pitching style. He stood at about my size, although that was to be expected. His pitches weren't all that fast, but I noticed that as I swung the bat, I wasn't swinging as hard as I would've liked, and it wasn't from the weight I'd stacked onto it, either. Maybe my reaction time had long depreciated. I didn't know for sure, but for sure I was about to find out.

 _"Batting third for the Storm: the center fielder, #27... Shadow the Hedgehog."_

I couldn't help but gaze around as the fans reacted in one way or another, but mostly one way: they were welcoming me to this house as if I'd always lived here. Even the opposing catcher, Kyle the Wolf, was standing up as I approached the batter's box situated on the left side of home plate.

"Never thought I'd see you play ball again," he snickered. "Welcome back, dude."

I shrugged sheepishly and snickered back.

"Now we're gonna kick your ass."

I chuckled. "I guess we'll see."

"Play ball!"

Demitri stood on the pitcher's rubber, staring me down for ages or so. Finally he went into his windup and delivered his first pitch of the night. I casually watched it sail past me into Kyle's mitt.

"STEEEEERIKE ONE!"

"See? No chance," Kyle snorted as he tossed the ball back.

"Obviously you haven't seen my swing yet."

Demitri quickly delivered his next pitch, and I swung with all my might.

"STRIKE TWO!"

"Juuuuust a tad late on that," Kyle chortled as he tossed the ball back again.

"Obviously you haven't seen me run yet."

Demitri waited a bit before throwing the ball again. I held my swing back this time, as it sailed well above my head.

"Too high. Ball one." At least my plate discipline was still there.

Demitri eyed me menacingly. I eyed him back. He threw another ball that looked to be high, but somehow I knew it would break back into the strike zone. So, I swung. As it turned out, it dropped lower than I'd anticipated.

"STRIKE THREE! YOU'RE OUT!"

After my silly performance, every freak lingering on the field scuttled towards the third base dugout. Inning over, I guess.

"Better luck next time, Slim Shady!"

Such was the story for the first six innings. Both teams began to hit the ball in the second inning, but nothing doing in the run department, the only count that mattered. I got my first hit in the sixth inning, just a sharp ground ball that reached the right field grass.

Entering the seventh inning, both starting pitchers were still in the game, even after they'd combined for nearly 200 pitches. Throughout the game, I practically jumped in anticipation every time Kyle stepped up for the Rogues. He had previously bounced out twice. This time, however, he whacked the first pitched ball deep down the left field line, well out of anyone's reach, settling into the tenth row of seats. As he rounded first base, he eyed me fiercely, as if in response to the "put up or shut up" call.

 **Rogues Solo Home Run: #6 Kyle the Wolf.**

 **Rogues 1, Storm 0.**

The next guy up was Crush the Badger, which sounded like something I would've never thought to do, especially with another jungle badger on our squad. This guy waited out our hard-throwing pitcher five times before smacking the sixth pitch into left center field. I ran back to try to get it, going so far as to to climb the outfield wall in an attempt to reach up for it, but it landed three rows into the spectator area. How humiliating. I threw my glove on the ground in a bout of frustration.

 **Rogues Solo Home Run: #25 Crush the Badger.**

 **Rogues 2, Storm 0.**

Knuckles trotted to the mound to have a chat with Zenith, who seemed awfully calm still after having given up those two home runs. True to his apparent lack of emotion, he retired the next three batters to get out of the inning.

As the tall red hedgehog walked into the dugout, he approached Blaze to tell her, according to what I thought I'd overheard, that she was going to pinch-hit for Tails. I got up from my usual seat to chat with the twin-tailed fox.

"Hey, Shadow," the fox sighed. "So, what do you think?"

I shrugged. "Methinks he really does love this sport," in reference to the tall red freak standing atop the dugout steps. "I just wish he didn't have to retire..."

He pretended to take off his eyeglasses only halfway. "He's probably got some things he needs to take care of first."

"Yeah, I'll bet he does," remembering our short conversation with his feline roommate.

Blaze ended up popping out to Kyle to end the seventh, and Manic and Sonia, pinch-hitting for Bunnie and Marine, both struck out looking in the eighth. Sonic earned a free pass after taking four straight pitches out of the strike zone, but Jet lined out to Mina to end that inning.

Who else but Kyle led off the top of the ninth with a double that split Jet and Shadow. He then advanced to third from Crush hitting a high chopper to Blaze, who stepped on first for the unassisted force out. Rocky the Mole then hit a towering shot in my direction. I had to back up towards the warning track to put him out, but the damage had been done as Kyle scored easily after tagging up, as my long throw failed to reach the plate in time.

 **Rogues 3, Storm 0.**

Some female cyborg hyena grounded out to Manic to put that mess away.

I noticed that the Rogues had handed the ball to the left-handed Xander the Leopard to start the final frame with me leading off. Fantastic. Time to feast.

And sure enough, I whacked the first pitch into right center field for a base knock.

As Knuckles settled into the box, I stepped about six paces off the bag, ready to run as soon as I saw Xander move his arm. Then I noticed he was turning towards me, so I made a mad dash back to the bag. Shonen made no effort to tag me. I got back up and stepped off the bag again, this time leaning slightly to my right, even more ready to steal second. And then Xander threw back to first base again, forcing me to retreat. As much as anyone in the stadium would've loved for the pitcher to get the game going, there was no rule that forced Xander to do so.

Finally he dealt a pitch to Knuckles. I waited a few steps off the bag. Strike one. Suddenly, I found the ball zooming back to first base. I scurried back to the bag as fast as I could and dove head first, but I felt a fast mitt sweep across my outstretched arms before I could reach the bag. I was out in a humiliating fashion. Returning to the dugout with nothing to show for my clutch hitting, I waited to hear what Zenith had to say. He didn't, simply looking blankly onto the field.

The conclusion of the game couldn't have come any quicker, as Knuckles flied out on the very next pitch to the cyborg hyena in left field who apparently called herself Tron Legend. Finally, Storm the Albatross struck out on three pitches.

 **FINAL: Rogues 3, Storm 0.**

I was the first to leave for the clubhouse, not wanting anything to do with anyone sulking on the dugout bench and watching on as the victorious Rogues congratulated each other on the field, or whatever their usual spiel was. I rushed to my locker and sat down on the wooden bench in front of it. I took off my jersey, stained all over with dirt, and hung it from one of the metallic hooks latched onto the interior. I reached above the locker and pulled out a fully developed polaroid picture.

"It's all your fault..." was all I could mutter.

The image depicted two figures in matching gray jerseys laced with the word "SHADES" printed in black, also displaying the block style numbers on the front. One of the figures was me, wearing my usual 27. The other was a female hedgehog with a long, practically glowing golden hair, matching giant gauntlets, sporting the number 16 on her jersey, the reason why nobody on our squad could use it.

I stared at the photo for a while, eventually sighing. "Life goes on..."

I felt a gloved hand gently graze my back. It could only have been Sonic.

"Don't touch me," I snapped.


	3. The Silent Treatment

**Rogues vs. Storm — Game 2 (Rogues Lead 1-0)**

R/R Sonic - CF #15  
L/L Verne - RF #8  
L/L Shadow - P #27  
R/R Knuckles - C #3  
L/R Storm - 1B #20  
L/R Silver - 2B #17  
R/L Blaze - LF #14  
R/R Sticks - SS #6  
R/R Marine - 3B #11

"What do you think he's looking at?"

The scarlet echidna and I were casually tossing the ball back and forth from third base, where I stood, to home plate, where he stood. Upon hearing this inquiry, he briefly fixated his view into the dugout, towards the dullish red hedgehog, who appeared to be staring out from the seat closest to the main entrance of the dugout, maybe towards us, maybe at the prominent plaque at the center field wall displaying the number 16 in red, or maybe at the pitcher's mound, whereto he would not be returning tonight for obvious reasons.

The echidna looked back at me puzzled and shrugged. "Couldn't tell ya. Maybe he's looking at nothing in particular."

"Could be."

He looked to his right and waved. "Hey Shadow! Remember what I told you."

"You haven't said anything yet," a disgruntled Shadow grunted in short response.

The echidna chuckled. "Oh, that Shadow."

I sighed. "I'm just glad he went out of his way to pitch tonight."

"Why, of course."

"I don't think you understand." I eyed him coldly. "He seemed a little off last night after the game."

He shrugged. "Doesn't everyone, though?"

"I found him alone in the clubhouse." I sighed. "He... had a moment."

"Oh, now I get it," he remarked, nodding lightly.

"Yeah, it's been hard. He hasn't taken it very lightly. I don't think that last game helped matters much. But, you know, one game at a time."

The echidna nodded again. "That's all you can do."

"So how's Verne been handling things?"

"Oh, you have no idea how excited he is to be playing tonight. He's been like, running all over the outfield all day long, since like, noon or something." He shook his head either in some kind of disbelief or in disappointment of his rambling. "It's crazy. I bet he'll be a better ball player than I ever was."

I chuckled. "He looks like he'll be a great five-tool player. Now I guess we'll see if he can hit."

"What's a five-tool player?"

I shrugged. "Ask Z."

As we took the field to start the game, I noticed that the crowd was a lot less into it this time around. I looked around the field for any oddities, but everyone was where they were supposed to be. Shadow seemed to take forever to throw his practice pitches. Maybe he needed to do that.

R/R Jeff - CF #9  
R/R Mina - SS #18  
L/L Flame - RF #24  
R/R Kyle - C #6  
L/R Crush - 1B #25  
L/R Rocky - 3B #16  
L/L Shonen - P #77  
R/R Tron - LF #51  
R/R Clay - 2B #30

The game started once again with Jeff Buck striking out, this time on five straight strikes, two of which he fouled off. Then Mina hit a high chopper to Marine, who made a nice throw to Storm to nab her, if only barely. Flame hit his first pitch well into the gap between me and Blaze, bouncing high off the warning track into the first row of seats. The play was dead and the flame-colored hedgehog settled into second base.

As Kyle the Wolf stepped in, the negative fan reaction that ensued was priceless. Of course you knew he was up to no good. Unfazed, the wolf pointed his bat in my direction. I shrugged it off. But he lined the first pitch up the middle, past the middle infielders, forcing me to run up and field the ball. I threw it with all my strength back to home plate. Shadow quickly ducked, waiting for the ball to sail past him. Instead, Marine ran into the ball's path and cut it off, faking a throw to the plate. As the runner touched home, the raccoon instead threw the ball to Silver covering second base, whereto Kyle was still running; the throw was easily in time, allowing Silver to apply the easy tag to end the inning.

 **Rogues 1, Storm 0.**

Leading off the home half, I dribbled a pitch back to the opposing pitcher, Shonen the Hedgehog, who flipped it to first for the quick out. I was left to sit in the dugout and watch in anticipation as the next guy stepped up to the plate for the first time.

 _"Batting second: the right fielder, #8... Verne the Bat."_

"I see what you did there," the scarlet echidna chortled.

Verne held the Sticky McSchnickens cautiously to his left, staring the pitcher down menacingly. Kyle yapped some things at the ivory-furred Mobian, but he appeared to pay no mind to the blabbermouth catcher. He wasn't having any of that.

He watched the first pitch go by, a slider that barely hooked, well outside for ball one. He stepped out of the batter's box to take some practice swings before casually strolling back in and readying his next swing. He went after the following pitch, another slider that broke right down the middle, and slapped it into deep right field, well out of anyone's sight. Finally something for us to celebrate. Verne immediately dropped the sticky and began running for a while. Meanwhile in right field, Flame briefly ran for the wall before stopping dead in his tracks, knowing he wasn't going to get it. I don't think he ever saw where it landed. I know none of us did.

 **Storm Solo Home Run: #8 Verne the Bat.**

 **Rogues 1, Storm 1.**

Only Shadow stood outside the dugout to greet Verne as he touched the plate. The rest of us were seated on the benches, pretending to look bored, unimpressed, dead tired, call it what you want. Amy seemed to be actually sleeping. It made sense.

Zenith high-fived Verne as he entered the dugout. He proceeded to settle in quietly, sitting in between me and Knuckles and looking just as bored as anyone else. After about five seconds of excruciating boredom, Knuckles was the first to congratulate him on his first Turbo League home run, and the rest of the team immediately mobbed him. Except for Shadow, of course. He was already in the batter's box through all of this, and he followed up on Verne's impressive showing with... a strikeout. Knuckles got to first from a base on balls before Storm also struck out.

Things were never the same for Shadow after that. The next inning, in another pitcher vs. pitcher battle, Shonen drove a ball that sailed over my head, leaving me to watch it settle way too many rows above the field.

"Oh, boy," I grunted, looking back and forth towards the area where it landed and Shadow, throwing his glove onto the dirt again.

 **Rogues Solo Home Run: #77 Shonen the Hedgehog.**

 **Rogues 2, Storm 1.**

The third inning wasn't much better: with Jeff (for once) and Kyle on base, Crush, living up to his name, crushed the first pitch from Shadow all the way to the left field wall, forcing Blaze to play the ball off a tricky carom. With Jeff already having scored, Kyle had rounded third base as she darted the ball to Sticks covering second. Sticks faked the throw to the plate, allowing Kyle to score yet again, as meanwhile Crush, not being that fast for a jungle badger, had stopped in between first and second base. The fake throw caused the unsuspecting badger to run a few steps to second, then turn around and dart back to first. Sticks simply ran him there with the ball, and only when they'd gotten close enough, but not too close, she threw the ball to Storm covering first, who applied the tag to end the inning.

 **Rogues 4, Storm 1.**

All of a sudden I had the implication that this defense would have to be the one factor that could pull us out of this hole.

Shadow won the pitcher's duel that ensued the following inning by striking out Shonen, taking seven pitches to do so. Just minutes before, Rocky the Mole had reached base on an infield hit down the third base line that Marine dove to stuff into her glove, but was late on the throw. Next, Tron laid a bunt down the first base line, allowing Rocky to advance to second as Tron was tagged out. The next batter was Clay the Mole, not looking nearly as powerful as his rocky counterpart on base. On the second pitch, he hit a sharp, hanging liner into the right-center field gap. As Verne and I both ran to stop it, the ball seemed to hook towards Verne, who reached out with his catching hand to try to stuff it into his glove before the ball hit the ground, but missed. Luckily, as it took a high bounce, I ran right into its path. With ball in glove, I quickly turned around and fired it back to second base, where Clay dug in safely less than a second later. As expected, Rocky scored through that mess. Wow, that was fast.

 **Rogues 5, Storm 1.**

I noticed Tails running with Bunnie into the bullpen, the de-roboticized rabbit standing behind the plate as the fox started to warm up his pitching motion. Shadow's day would likely be done soon, leading me to question if everyone else on our squad would be too rusty to pitch a full nine innings. For now, the ebony hedgehog stayed on the mound long enough to induce a groundout from Jeff to put an end to that mess.

In the fifth inning, after Flame had walked on four straight pitches, in came who else but Kyle to drive the ball well over Blaze in left field, settling in virtually the same spot as his shot from last night. Shadow said some things to the opposing catcher as he started his relatively long trot around the bases. I palmed my face, surprised but still relieved that nobody got ejected after all that.

 **Rogues 2-Run Home Run: #6 Kyle the Wolf.**

 **Rogues 7, Storm 1.**

When Zenith ran onto the field, the ebony hedgehog simply lobbed the ball in his direction before walking slowly back to the dugout. The tall red hedgehog made some motioning gestures towards the bullpen, then to left field. Tails ran out of the bullpen to the mound, where the game ball awaited him, while Bunnie went back into the dugout. Curiously, Blaze also ran towards the dugout, with Jet the Hawk sprinting onto the field, presumably to take her place. I don't think she was very pleased to leave the game this early.

Nevertheless, Tails was able to strike out the next two guys to end the frame. He then led off the bottom of the inning with a single that blooped into center field, followed by a six-pitch walk for Sticks. Marine then grounded into a double play, advancing Tails to third base.

Before I stepped into the batter's box, I saw Tails give me a wink. I guess that was his way of saying, "You got this, Sonic." And sure enough, I smacked a ground ball that passed the first and second basemen into right field, giving Tails an easy pass to home plate.

 **Rogues 7, Storm 2.**

I got into a six-step lead as Verne stepped up, but Shonen threw the ball to Crush covering first base three times. I reduced my lead to five steps, and then the pitcher threw the first pitch, which Verne slapped all the way to the left center field wall. As soon as I heard the crack of the sticky, I jumped off my lead and ran for a while. As I rounded second, I adjusted my view to the outfield, where the very fast buck was only just stuffing the ball in his glove, so I rounded third, prepared to slide head-first to the plate, being covered on one foot by a certain pesky opposing catcher. The throw was offline, forcing him to scurry well off the plate when it looked like the play would be close, and I stepped on the plate without risk of being tagged.

 **Rogues 7, Storm 3.**

Sooner or later, I wanted to get this game over with.

In the bottom of the seventh inning, Marine surprised everyone by driving one of Shonen's sliders to straightaway center field. As the ball soared higher and higher, Jeff Buck backed up further and further, eventually setting up again the wall. He jumped... but the ball sailed well above his outstretched glove. The whole dugout erupted again, knowing now that our squad was likely full of unlikely heroes.

 **Storm Solo Home Run: #11 Marine the Raccoon.**

 **Rogues 7, Storm 4.**

Sooner or later, I thought, we might have a chance.

Jet led off the bottom of the eighth with a triple off a high fly ball that shot up very high down the right field line, but banked off the wall, kicking away from Flame as he climbed the wall as if trying to rob a home run. He pointed towards me, and I simply gave him the "thumbs-up". Hey, anything helps. After Knuckles flied out to the shortstop, Storm flied out to Tron in left field, deep enough to get the speedy hawk home without a throw.

 **Rogues 7, Storm 5.**

The next inning, the Rogues struck back, with Tron and Mina both hitting the ball to short outfield for singles, and Flame striking it all the way to the left center field wall, scoring the hyena easily and forcing a long throw from Jet, who reached the ball before I could, to try to beat the mongoose breaking for home. Marine cut the throw off and proceeded to dart the ball to Knuckles covering the plate, but the mongoose slid head first and touched it with her left hand right as he gloved it, beating out any chance of a tag.

 **Rogues 9, Storm 5.**

Curiously, Xander came back out to the mound in the following frame, because apparently baseball teams these days had designated closers. Tails came up first in another pitcher vs. pitcher battle and grounded out to Clay. Then Sticks waited out seven pitches before striking out looking at a fastball right down the middle. Marine came up, waiting out another seven pitches, eventually working the count full. She laid off the payoff pitch, a changeup down and in, awarding her a free pass to first base.

As I walked into the box, the pressure to perform mounted onto me like never before, or so it seemed. I watched the first pitch go by, a fastball well outside for ball one. I fouled off a changeup that broke into the zone. And another. Finally I got ahold of a fastball, grounding it hard to Rocky, who had to dive to his left to stop it. Marine would totally be safe. I had a clear path to first base ahead of me, and all worry of being thrown out had escaped. All I had to do was run, run, run.

I charged to the bag, all the strength I could muster to my feet, pushing off the dirt six times per second, lunging further to the bag. Then, the sound of the ball being stuffed into the glove. Then, the sound of my foot stepping on the bag. I turned around, the momentum pushing me backwards still. Crush's dominant right foot was planted on his side of the bag the whole time. I was out.

 **FINAL: Rogues 9, Storm 5.**

"Can you still run?"

That was the only quote ringing in my head over and over. Of course I could still run. At least, I thought I could. My life had been — no, _all_ our lives — pretty darn quiet without baseball. Tails spent all his time in his lab, only thinking of really obscure contraptions to invent. Knuckles would either relax the whole day away, or pay this Hector guy to guard the giant jewel. Amy had to slow down for family life. Shadow and I did... basically nothing. There was no reason for either of us to run. Dr. Eggman was dead. Nobody was ever there to steal the Master Emerald. To top it all off, we were all getting old.

As I walked slowly off the field in deep contemplation mode, Zenith met me at the foot of the dugout steps, his foot tapping impatiently, a genuinely concerned, yet still stern-looking expression painted on his face, his dominant right hand sort-of grasping the dugout fence behind him. Finally he sighed lightly.

"You did your best, Sonic."

I eyed him for a few seconds. Then I stared more or less at the dirt covering the warning track in front of the dugout, or perhaps his black-and-white sneakers perched atop that patch of dirt. I glanced back at him, sighing just as lightly.

"I need to do better."


	4. You're Too Slow!

**Storm vs. Rogues — Game 3 (Rogues Lead 2-0)**

I was all by myself in the outfield, just running along the track from left to right field and back. The fans here were more raucous than before, owing to the fact that we were now in an actual ballpark with a scenic view of downtown Shamar, because the stadium in Mazuri looked better suited for football, higher fan capacity notwithstanding. This fan capacity was collectively chanting something as I ran around the outfield, seeming to get louder and louder as game time approached, that I couldn't make out, not that I cared to. I only thought to leave the outfield when all the other guys, sporting storm cloud jerseys of a smoky white hue this time around, collectively scuttled towards the dugout, signaling the end of practice.

R/R Sonic - RF #15  
L/L Verne - CF #8  
R/R Knuckles - C #3  
L/R Storm - DH #20  
L/R Wave - LF #2  
L/R Bunnie - SS #9  
R/R Marine - 3B #11  
R/R Sticks - 2B #6  
R/R Tails - 1B #10

I didn't want to sit down.

"Looks like someone wants to play some ball here," the scarlet echidna chortled, sitting contently on the dugout bench.

"I can't slow down," I snapped, practically bouncing in place. "I gotta keep the energy running."

"Whatever. At least you're batting first again." The echidna just shrugged in a bit of a sheepish manner. "No pressure."

The performance of the Mobian World Anthem seemed to drag on an agonizingly long time. I couldn't stop bouncing.

When I took practice swings from the on-deck circle, analyzing this new opposing pitcher, the right-handed Lavender the Rabbit, I noticed he was staring me down forever, even as he delivered his pitches. For every fastball he blew by me, I noticed his stare getting colder and colder.

"No problem," I said more or less to myself.

"Play ball!"

The staredown on his part only intensified as I took to the batter's box.

"Under pressure?" I heard a familiar voice nag. I didn't need to make an effort to pay no mind to him, for the chants that followed me during practice suddenly grew deafening, making it very clear what they were saying.

"You're too slow! You're too slow! You're too slow!"

I simply watched the rabbit's first two pitches, both landing well below the strike zone. On the next two pitches I prepared to swing away, but held back as they both appeared to go well above the zone, but broke back in for two straight strikes. I had to back away to avoid the next pitch. I noticed he was still staring at me as I faced him for a brief moment to describe exactly what I thought of his brushback. Instead, I simply shook my head. Finally, I laid off a pitch that sank just below my knees. Ball four.

I immediately dropped the bat and began to trot down the base line, my gaze fixated on first base. About halfway I looked back towards Lavender, who had just gotten the ball back from the catcher who shall not be named. He seemed to be looking down towards... something. I snickered, and as soon as I stepped on the bag, I broke for second base, stirring up commotion from the middle infielders, yapping at the pitcher in a feeble attempt to get him to throw the ball. I dove head-first into second base anyway, my left hand slapping it hard and clawing onto it for dear life as I slid past the bag.

"Safe!"

The chants that had filled the place just seconds ago were now deathly silent, aside from a few expressions of displeasure here and there. I noticed Zenith on the dugout fence smiling and clapping as I quickly jumped to my feet. I simply pointed in his direction, as if saying, "You like that! You like that!"

As Verne took his turn at the bat, I shuffled a few steps back and forth between second and third, prompting some more dirty looks from the pitcher. I snickered for what seemed like a whole minute before he dealt to Verne, who slapped the ball into right field. I was on the move again. Only when I rounded third did I turn and look for the ball. Seeing that the flame-broiled hedgehog was having trouble fielding the ball, I just ran, as a train on a track sloping downwards. Why downwards? I felt like I was only getting faster and faster the closer I got to home plate. I could hardly stop at all after simply stepping on the plate, so I did a 180 towards the third base dugout, where the rest of the team camped out. They all greeted me with high-fives and nonsensical cheers, even Shadow.

 **Storm 1, Rogues 0.**

Meanwhile, Verne had dug in safely to second as Knuckles stepped up to the plate. The opposing pitcher took no time throwing the ball well inside, causing the echidna to stumble as he backed away to avoid the pitch. Following the questionable display, Knuckles proceeded to whack at the next pitch. The ball flew out to straightaway center field and never looked back. As for Knuckles, he simply watched the ball fly for a few seconds before finally flipping the sticky in no particular direction and trotting around the bases.

 **Storm 2-Run Home Run: #3 Knuckles the Echidna.**

 **Storm 3, Rogues 0.**

In the dugout, the scarlet-furred echidna and the ivory-flavored bat initiated some secret handshake that got some laughs out of me, Tails, and Amy.

R/R Jeff - CF #9  
R/R Mina - SS #18  
L/L Flame - RF #24  
R/R Kyle - C #6  
L/R Crush - DH #25  
L/R Rocky - 3B #16  
L/L Shonen - 1B #77  
R/R Tron - LF #51  
R/R Clay - 2B #30

Out on the field, it was the same story. It seemed everyone was feeling sharper tonight than before. Verne, Wave and I made several nice catches on the run. The infield was like a brick wall, diving at any ball they saw and stopping it in its tracks. Then there was the elephant in the room, the tall red hedgehog standing atop the mound at the center of the infield. Even though it wasn't his own mound, he controlled the game with every hard-thrown heater, nasty curve, and unpredictable floater he tossed to the echidna crouched behind the plate. The relentless fan chants became softer and softer as I noticed that the opposition was swinging harder and a lot more frequently. I was definitely on their minds.

We weren't even done yet. While the top of the sixth inning started out as quickly as most of the game had gone after our offensive explosion in the first, with both Verne and Knuckles bouncing out for the first two outs, Storm the Albatross stepped in, having only recorded one hit up to this point. Admittedly, he was never a contact hitter like Knuckles. Furthermore, he was evidently getting more frustrated the longer he stayed in the batter's box.

He stood still at first, letting the first pitch from Lavender (yeah, remember him?) drop and bounce four feet in front of the plate. Unfazed, he pretended to swing the bat only halfway in preparation for the next toss of the ball. As he swung with all his might, he let go of the bat immediately following his follow through and started to run, or jog, towards first base. Everyone on the field simply stood where they were, some looking behind them to try to track the ball. They all failed spectacularly.

 **Storm Solo Home Run: #20 Storm the Albatross.**

 **Storm 4, Rogues 0.**

After casually stepping on home plate, he high-fived Wave in the on-deck circle so hard that it almost made her fall over. I couldn't blame him for that stunt, however, for he'd just lifted a giant weight off his shoulders. Everyone in our dugout was quite euphoric for the moment.

Of course, there were still four innings of defense left to be played. During those innings in particular, I made an extra effort to always be on my toes, running as lightly as possible across the lush, green grass that signaled the outfield. The other guys were slapping the ball all over the place, and even if they were already going straight into our fielding gloves, I saw that Zenith wasn't getting any strikeouts. "He must be getting tired," I said to myself.

In the bottom of the ninth, the last chance for the Rogues to get on the scoreboard, Jeff Buck reached base after hitting a sharp grounder up the middle, hopping well above Zenith's outstretched glove and bouncing just out of the reach of Sticks and Bunnie. Mina immediately followed it up with a line drive into left field that was easily fielded by Wave to prevent the speedy buck from swiping third. He would get there anyway as Flame smacked his first pitch just over Marine's head, landing right in front of Wave. She immediately chucked the ball back into the glove of Zenith, who then stared down the buck shuffling his way back to third base. With the bases loaded and nobody out, the crowd grew unbearably loud once again. "You're too slow! You're too slow! You're too slow!"

Before the unnamed opposing catcher could dig into the plate, Knuckles jumped up and shuffled towards the mound to chat with Zenith. Whereas the echidna in bright red stuck his glove over his face in a usual effort to disguise the conversation from the other guys, the hedgehog in dull red had no such obligation because he naturally liked to stay mostly silent. This applied heavily to when he was actually pitching. He didn't need to utter any words to convey what was on his mind. At the same time, there was always a sense of competition in baseball, and as well as he understood that, he never let it get in the way of his performance on the mound, no matter how uncharacteristic it may have been.

As the wolf took his practice swings, the only animal on the field that mattered just stared him down for forever, or so it seemed. He threw the ball as hard as he could, and the wolf hit the ball into foul territory, back into the netting to prevent spectator injury. The crimson pincushion received another ball and with it stared the wolf down again. I began scratching the back of my quills wondering when, or if, this at-bat would ever end. He chucked the ball again at an alarming velocity, and the unnamed batter hit it back into foul territory again, this time over the netting, allowing a spectator to catch it with relative ease. The animal sporting the mauvelously bad hair received yet another ball and again stared down the wolf in the better-groomed golden fur. I started tapping my foot repeatedly, looking up towards nothing in particular. Finally the tall red hedgehog dealt a pitch that the wolf swung right through as the ball broke sharply down and inside, uncharacteristic for a right-handed pitcher versus a batter from the right side. The old fastball-fastball-screwball trick.

With the wolf's silly swing, there was now one out, but instead of throwing it back to Zenith, or since it was a strikeout pitch, to Marine, the echidna simply held the ball a few seconds, eyeing the understandably fast deer at third base menacingly, his way of letting the runner know that he wasn't about to swipe home anytime soon. After he threw the ball back, Crush came to the plate and wasted no time popping the ball straight up near the third base side, allowing Marine to ease into position. The umpire near third base signaled his right index finger over his head, calling the play an infield fly. Crush was out. Seeing that the speedster was just hanging out a few steps ahead of third base, Marine clamped her glove over the ball to force him to retreat to the bag.

The bases were still loaded, however, and the damage was just asking to be done. Rocky walked at a snail's pace into the batter's box and proceeded to point his sticky in my direction.

"Oy," I grumbled.

Rocky watched the first pitch go by, a fastball outside for ball one. Then he laid off a changeup that broke below the zone. After that, he looked at a hard heater right down the middle, making the count two balls to one strike. I began to tap my foot again, this time slowly, at around a tap a minute. I could wait.

Finally I heard a loud crack, and out sailed the ball to deep right field. I found myself backing up at a steady pace as it looked for the stands behind me. Soon I was running over the warning track, the ball still on pace to sail over my head. The spikes on my quills grazing the wall, I leaped as high as I could, stretching the glove on my left hand just as high. As I clamped my glove shut for dear life, the loud thud that pierced the glove pushed me further back, causing me to crash into the wall and stumble onto the outfield grass. No pain, just... numbness.

"HE'S OUT!"

 **FINAL: Storm 4, Rogues 0.**

I was helped to my feet by Verne about ten seconds after I'd made the catch.

"You alright, Sonic?"

I sighed heavily. "Yeah. Thanks, Verne."

He gave me a friendly nudge. "You really played your heart out today, you know that?"

"Yeah..." I chuckled a bit as we ran back to the dugout. "I guess I did."

I was stopped in foul territory for a media interview. Apparently my end-of-game catch made me the "player of the game". I had nothing much to say about that.

Zenith met me at the foot of the dugout. "You gave me a great game tonight," was all he said in his unusually deep, slightly English-accented voice.

"That intensive practice session must've paid off." I snickered. "And way to get out of that jam yourself."

The tall red hedgehog nodded lightly. "Can I ask you to do something really weird for me tomorrow?"

I shrugged. "Name it."

"Try to play even better tomorrow than you did tonight."

"Of course!" I beamed. "You've seen me play ball in the past, right? The ballparks couldn't contain me." I started running around him in short bursts. "You see? I'm a speed freak. When I'm at the top of my game, the only thing I can do is improve my game. You want an even better game tomorrow?" I stopped right in front of the unfazed animal wearing a block style 13 on his back. "Then I'm your hedgehog."

Just kidding. I'd like to think I'm not that one-dimensional. What I actually said was, "For you, I'll give it my best shot."

He smiled lightly, slapping his recessive left hand on my shoulders. "Thanks, Sonic."


	5. Long Time No See

**Storm vs. Rogues — Game 4 (Rogues Lead 2-1)**

I knocked on the steel door leading into the visiting team clubhouse, standing outside the ballpark, one of the busiest blocks in downtown Shamar. The response was almost immediate; the door swung out towards me, the applied torque giving momentum to its revolving motion such that I had to back away quickly to avoid being struck, but the gloved hand holding onto the knob slowed the door to a halt halfway open, preventing the possibility of such a collision.

A familiar face stood in the doorway as expected, his signature dull red fur illuminated from how bright the day was. The expression on his face was blank at first, but it lit up a second later.

"Sonic! Long time no see." I chuckled. "You know practice doesn't start 'til two..."

"I know," I interrupted, darting past the tall hedgehog. I stopped and turned around, surprised that he didn't stop me in my tracks. He looked at me blankly again and shrugged. "Well, I'll see ya on the field." I waved at him before turning back around and dashing through the locker room, out onto the playing field, devoid of any intelligent life. I took in the fresh air all around me. Wow, did I ever need that.

R/R Sonic - RF #15  
L/L Verne - CF #8  
R/R Knuckles - C #3  
L/R Storm - DH #20  
L/R Jet - LF #1  
L/R Wave - SS #2  
R/R Marine - 3B #11  
R/R Sonia - 2B #5  
R/R Manic - 1B #0

"How you feeling, Verne?" I greeted the ivory bat as he ran out to his position during practice.

"You know I'm liking things right now," he replied, tossing me a ball.

"I guess I do," I chuckled, catching it into my mesh glove. "Have you played baseball before?"

"You mean before we went into all this?" I nodded. "I have, actually. My dad taught me how to play when I was five."

My face lit up at that remark. "Well it certainly shows." I tossed the ball back. "I haven't seen a performance like yours since Zenith started playing. You've just been tearing it up."

"You know, I always wanted to play against him." He trapped the ball in the glove attached to his right hand. "I never imagined getting to play with him, though."

"I see what you mean," I remarked. "But he knows you're good. You've been playing your heart out these last few games, and that's how you got a spot on the team."

"Just, wow." He tossed the ball again.

"But don't take my word for it. Take it straight from the horse's mouth," the horse referring to Zenith because he could still pitch nine innings every game after all these years. "So who's pitching today?" I inquired as I caught the ball.

"That would be Tails," he replied.

"You reckon he'll be ready to go?"

"He should be rested enough. He gave us five strong innings three nights ago."

"Alright..." I sighed, scratching the back of my quills for a few seconds. "I just hope he doesn't overwork himself."

"He'll be alright."

R/R Jeff - CF #9  
R/R Mina - SS #18  
L/L Flame - RF #24  
R/R Kyle - C #6  
L/R Crush - DH #25  
L/R Rocky - 3B #16  
L/L Shonen - 1B #77  
R/R Tron - LF #51  
R/R Clay - 2B #30

Only time would tell, it seemed. His opponent was Demitri, standing atop the mound as if it were his own. I grounded out to Shonen to begin the game. Verne flew out to Tron in left, and Knuckles struck out on four pitches. On defense, Tails displayed a similar level of dominance, striking out both Jeff and Mina, then getting Flame to fly the ball to right field, which I easily settled under and caught to end the frame. Things continued as such for the most part, despite the unusual multitude of base hits collected from either side, until the bottom of the fourth inning, when Crush the Badger knocked the ball into the gap at left center field, deep enough to dig into second base, beating the throw to Sonia by three steps. Rocky followed it up by grounding out to Sonia, allowing Crush to take third. Shonen then lined his first pitch such that Manic just missed diving for the ball, trickling into the outfield for me to throw back in only after Crush plated the opening run.

 **Rogues 1, Storm 0.**

In the following frame, Sonia drew a walk after fighting off seven pitches. Watching from the on-deck circle, I could tell that the pressure to perform was trying to weigh down Manic. Nevertheless, he swung at the first pitch, a chopper that bounced high into the air. Curiously, both Demitri and Shonen ran to where the ball was about to land, but by the time Shonen fielded it, Manic had reached first safely without a throw, Sonia advancing to second meanwhile.

I walked slowly into the batter's box and looked all around me, staring through the angry fans in the stands, their rhythmic chant only growing louder from last night. I turned to face Demitri square in the eyes, holding my sticky up behind me, but I couldn't help but notice both Manic and Sonia, two hedgehogs I was blessed to call brother and sister, on base at the same time. I dropped the bat beside me, and suddenly I was back to pondering where all this time had gone. After I'd previously retired from baseball, I hadn't really kept in touch with... anyone. Trying to stay fast was the only thing I could think about, and I could understand if they had a problem with it. I often tried to remind myself who I was as motivation to do nothing but run. After a while, however, running gradually became monotonous such that I was essentially fighting fire with fire when it came to killing my boredom. In that sense, that chance meeting with Knuckles was nothing short of a miracle.

I let the first pitch zoom past me, a fastball down the middle for a strike. I took a few practice swings within the batter's box before holding the bat behind me, signaling that I was ready for the next pitch. However, Demitri wouldn't throw. He just held the ball, occasionally looking towards Sonia at second base, of which I didn't see the point as I'd never known Sonia as a particularly fast hedgehog. Finally he threw the ball high into the air at first, with the spin of the ball creating a magnus effect that pushed the ball back into the strike zone. The ol' Uncle Charlie. The next pitched ball zoomed past me, well out of my reach. I took some more practice swings within the batter's box and, upon Demitri's release of the ball, swung the bat square with the ball, knocking it wherever, before dropping the bat and chugging to first base. I only thought to look up after I'd stepped on the bag. Not seeing where the ball was at first, I quickly shuffled back to the bag, while Manic was dashing for third base and Sonia was making a run for the plate. I finally found the ball darting from somewhere in left field towards third, the burly mole on defense trapping it in his glove and lunging it towards the forest-green hedgehog with the shaggy hair, who slid head-first to beat the tag as Sonia meanwhile simply stepped on home plate owing to the lack of a throw.

"Safe!"

 **Storm 1, Rogues 1.**

Manic extended his "thumbs-up" gesture towards me on the opposite end of the diamond. I simply smiled and waved at him.

Following my display of still being able to hit after all these years, Verne stepped up and smacked the first pitch high into the air, sailing down center field. I jumped off my six-step lead, but stopped halfway between the bases as the speedy buck settled under the ball. I retreated to first after he made the catch, while the wacky-haired green hedgehog broke for home with the ball just hoping to chase him there, the throw from the center fielder cut off by Clay at second base. Ball in hand, he proceeded to stare me down, laughing at any notion I didn't have of stealing a base, while Manic reached home easily as if sneaking past everybody. The ol' sacrifice fly.

 **Storm 2, Rogues 1.**

That was all we were going to get, as Knuckles grounded into a double play. After Mina flipped the ball to Clay to force me out on a close play, he took his sweet time darting it to Shonen to get Knuckles out and end the inning.

Tails wasn't exactly known for his dominance on the mound. His long tosses to the plate were just that, seeming to take their time to reach the glove of Knuckles. However, the break he put on each ball was sharp enough to force some nasty swings out of his opponents for much of the game. Entering the bottom of the sixth inning, he started to approach every batter by taking more time than usual. This may have helped him at first glance, as he got Flame to chop the ball straight to Manic for the first out... on the eighth pitch of the at-bat. After that, both Kyle and Crush earned free passes on six pitches each. Now their patience was paying off. Before Knuckles threw the ball back, he jumped up and ran towards the mound to chat with the fox on the mound, who seemed jto be all ok-yep-I-got-it-Knux, like any pitcher would say in a typical mound visit.

Tails took even more time dealing to Rocky, throwing once every thirty seconds or so. Every pitch was a battle within itself, with the pitcher throwing anywhere with as much curve as possible and the batter getting a piece of the ball, but knocking it foul still, keeping the count at two strikes. Finally Rocky popped the ball straight up as if almost going invisible. For sure it wasn't going to reach me. Instead, Manic and Sonia scuttled a few steps inwards before Tails called it off for himself, prompting both hedgehogs to scuttle back. The umpires guarding first and second base both signaled the infield fly rule, making Rocky out by default. The fox caught the ball anyway, likely a good idea since Kyle, as the lead runner, was probably not going to steal third anytime soon.

As Shonen trotted towards the batter's box, he mouthed something towards Tails, who just stood intently on the white rubber mark at the center of the mound, watching the hitter's every move. Knuckles stood up slowly to his feet, staying in his position as the pesky hedgehog wearing the number 77 finally stepped in, readying the bat. However, the fox waited ten seconds before throwing the first pitch, forcing Shonen to back out of the box to avoid it. Perhaps he felt that the hedgehog was trying to gain an edge on the outer half of the strike zone by crowding the plate. Shonen apparently yapped something else towards the fox, suggesting that he felt he was being targeted at the same time. Knuckles simply remained crouched behind the plate and Tails retreated swiftly to the mound after receiving the ball back. His next throw went to the opposite side of the plate, missing the glove of Knuckles entirely and colliding with the backstop. As Knuckles ran back to get the ball, so did the pair of baserunners, nonchalantly slowing down halfway to second and third base. After that display, the fox's return to the mound was far less swift, showing a dejected feeling. Knuckles stood up just before Tails thought about throwing the next pitch and ran back to the mound, where the fox began to let his frustration seep through, frantically shaking his head as he yapped some things, presumably having nothing to do with the batter, who just stood there, taking a few practice swings. The echidna simply patted the fox near the shoulder area and then trotted back behind the plate, in front of the home plate umpire who pulled a protective mask over his face to signal that the game was about to resume, and so it did with the next toss from Tails, which landed softly in Knuckles's glove for a strike. The echidna looked menacingly at the runner on third base before throwing the ball back. Just seconds later, the fox threw the ball again, inducing the batter to swing below the pitch, thinking it would dip that low again. Two balls and now two strikes.

"Alright!" I shouted. "You got 'im, Tails!"

I guess he didn't hear me. When he caught the soft toss from Knuckles, the middle-aged fox anxiously stuffed the ball into his glove over and over. Meanwhile, I began half-bouncing in place, for even I could no longer bear to watch this at-bat and see everything potentially go wrong. The fox leaned towards the plate, his twin tails just flying in place instinctively in an attempt to distract the hedgehog in the batter's box. After the fox released the ball, Shonen immediately pulled his sticky back behind him, getting ready to swing. And so he did, keeping both hands sturdy on the bat through his gigantic follow through that came close to nailing Knuckles's catcher's mask. Shonen was now making a dazed and confused face that told the whole world that he had struck out.

Tails immediately pumped his fist and walked slowly towards the dugout, stopping at the foot to say something to Zenith. I sat next to the fox sitting at the end of the dugout bench.

"Hey Tails. Did you tell him you were done?"

The fox nodded.

"How have your latest inventions been coming along?"

The fox sighed. "I haven't really been moving along with them. I feel like, maybe I lost the motivation a long time ago."

"Story of my life," I chimed in.

He just stared intently towards me. Then he continued, "At least you have a reason to run now."

"Every time I get onto the field, that's true. During practice... on defense... at the bat."

"You know, I hadn't seen you with a baseball since you last played."

"Not once?" Not counting our random session just before the playoffs began, I thought I remembered picking up the bat for practice once in the last however-many years.

"Not once." He shook his head lightly. A surprised expression took over my face. "I've been thinking about it for a while. Are you going to play baseball again next year?"

"I don't know, Tails," I sighed, initially looking to dodge the question. In truth, Zenith was the main reason I myself wanted to pick up my bat. I considered the fox's inquiry for a while, realizing that I had no idea any of the other freaks surrounding me also wanted to play ball again. I was also surprised Zenith was even willing to recruit a couple of washed-up old timers onto his squad during the playoffs. I watched the tall red hedgehog, who was still standing on the edge of the dugout fence, intently eyeing everything that was going on, occasionally briefly looking towards me and Tails. He never showed it through expressions on his face, but somehow I could tell that deep down, it made him happy. It had to be the prime reason for him to keep playing all this time. I started to wonder if I myself was happy. Of course, I felt the adrenaline all over again every time I stepped onto the field. But more importantly, it brought me closer to my friends, including my kitsune brother. I could never give that up.

"Yeah," I finally muttered, smiling a little. "I think he'd like that."

The fox briefly eyed the dullish red hedgehog now standing atop the mound, effortlessly controlling the game with every toss of the stitched ball. Then he turned towards me again and said, "He'd like that a lot."

"Yeah," was all I could say.

"Now, don't you get all sappy in front of me," snapped Amy, who was sitting on the other end of the dugout bench. Neither of us could help but palm our faces and giggle a little.

I spent most of the remainder of the game just zoning out, to the point where I didn't notice the blast that Storm the Albatross sent into the right field stands in the eighth inning. Only when the albatross stormed back into the dugout amid the deafening commotion within the dugout did I figure out what happened.

 **Storm Solo Home Run: #20 Storm the Albatross.**

 **Storm 3, Rogues 1.**

After that performance, I remained seated on the bench for the rest of the game, giving me ample time to observe Zenith, who appeared more dominant than ever even after having pitched the whole nine innings the night before. That kind of endurace was unheard of, and yet I remembered that somehow this wasn't the first time he'd done something like that.

The dullish red hedgehog waited fiercely as Crush stepped in to lead off the bottom of the ninth inning, hoping to start a late rally. Instead, he swung right through every pitch he saw. The first two were fastballs that zoomed into the scarlet echidna's glove before the badger could get a piece of them. The third, in classic fashion, was a screwball that unconventionally broke away from the badger's outstretched sticky for the first out. Rocky followed it up with a long fly ball to center field, where Verne hardly needed to move an inch to track the ball and put it away for out number two, setting up an epic matchup with who could it be but Shonen at the bat.

Zenith leaned uneasily and stared the opposing hedgehog menacingly, aligning the stitches on the baseball with the fingertips on his throwing hand. Meanwhile, Shonen simply kept the bat tucked into his ready stance and kept it there as the first pitch simply floated past him, a knuckleball landing square in the zone for strike one. Unfazed, the naturally-colored hedgehog stepped out of the batter's box to take a couple of practice swings. As he stepped back in, he met Zenith's blank stare with a much colder stare of his own. He proceeded to swing at a very fast fastball, getting a piece but hitting it into the foul part of left field from whence it bounced into the seats. Free souvenir, I thought to myself. Upon receiving a replacement ball, the tall red hedgehog sort of drifted back to the mound, not necessarily walking directly towards it. Something seemed to be distracting him...

"Come on, Z!" I shouted. "You got 'im!"

I guess he didn't hear me. It seemed like an eternity until the crimson pincushion fixated his gaze where the opposing hedgehog stood, ready to strike at any moment. Finally Zenith released the ball, a slow roller that only seemed to float towards the plate, but riddled with a crazy dose of break. Shonen easily saw this coming, and with a firm grip across both hands, swung the sticky with brute force so as to almost clip Knuckles's mask once again. Knuckles jumped in front of the ball, as it had dipped well below, and towards the inside portion of, the strike zone. As the ball struck the dirt, the umpire guarding home plate made a slight hand gesture towards first base. Before the batter, now a runner, could do anything, Knuckles quickly scooped the ball from the dirt and applied the tag on the dazed, unsuspecting Shonen for the game-ending out.

 **FINAL: Storm 3, Rogues 1.**

As the rest of the squad gathered near the mound to celebrate, Zenith walked straight into the dugout and sat next to the twin-tailed fox, presumably to chat about his performance on the mound. I watched on from the infield and sighed.

"Sometimes a guy needs a break," I said more or less to myself. "Being fast isn't everything."


	6. Sound of the Falling Rain

**Storm vs. Rogues — Game 5 (Series Tied 2-2)**

The Rosalina Galaxy earned a spot in the Gold Cup Finals overnight, having swept the Pauline Magicians (I know, amazing name) in four games. I guess those guys somehow had the dedication, the stamina, the will to play baseball for generations. Now it was only up to the Storm to win this series, because who didn't want to see the Blue Blur playing for the Gold Cup again? Not that I was there to witness such an event the first twenty times...

R/R Sonic - CF #15  
L/R Jet - LF #1  
L/L Verne - RF #8  
R/R Knuckles - C #3  
L/R Storm - 1B #20  
L/L Shadow - P #27  
R/R Marine - 3B #11  
L/R Wave - SS #2  
L/R Bunnie - 2B #9

"Hey Verne!" I heard Knuckles shout as he scurried out of the dugout during practice. "Can I use your throwing arm for a sec?"

"Yeah, Dad," I replied, just loud enough that the echidna could hear me as I stood out in right field where he could barely see me. "What'cha need?"

"I wanna see how far you can throw." He was holding a stitched ball in his left hand and a wooden stick in his right. "Maybe if you play deep a few paces." He pointed behind me, presumably motioning towards the wall displaying the distance from home plate to said wall: 104 meters. Fair enough.

I stepped back a few spaces, going further as the echidna waved his five-fingered right glove towards me. Of course he was known for donning a pair of mitts implanted with obnoxious knuckles instead and only bothering to switch them up when baseball was involved. Also, he could only use one mitt as a catcher, per the rules.

"You're good," he shouted, holding his hand up in the figure of a familiar crosswalk signal, and I stopped. Looking behind me, I noticed I was only a few steps ahead of the warning track. I guess this is pretty deep.

Ball in hand, the echidna dug out his bat and rushed to the plate. Meanwhile, Sonic scurried over to third base, where he started tapping his foot, staring back and forth towards me and the echidna. Oh, you sneak. Suddenly I knew what this drill was all about.

In a stunt that could only be hopelessly attempted by a kid who called himself "the greatest hitter/pitcher in the world", the echidna lightly threw the ball upwards in front of him, and when it came down, he swung the bat, striking the ball in such a manner that it flew seemingly into thin air, of course sailing in my direction. I settled under the general area where the ball would land, lightly scuttling ahead towards the exact landing point to catch it into my glove. Upon impact, Sonic immediately dashed for the plate. I quickly shuffled it into my dominant left hand and threw it back with all my strength. I stopped dead in my tracks and stared intently as the ball sailed across the field, over everyone's head, conveniently landing, or thudding, in the echidna's outstretched mitt. He immediately swerved around to try to tag Sonic, but the blue streak had already stepped on the plate standing up. I did this drill several times and never managed to throw the Blue Blur out. Father Time could never slow this guy down.

During the performance of the Mobian World Anthem, I nonchalantly gazed repeatedly towards the enigma that was Zenith the Hedgehog, observing his continually blank stare towards... something. From what I'd observed watching him from the stands all the time during my younger years, he was always thinking about everything, but then again, he was also thinking about nothing. I'd overheard the tall red hedgehog saying the other day that he just wanted to get the game over with, but as much as anyone here believed it, I had to wonder if he himself really believed it.

At the same time, I had developed a great deal of respect for the guy, even if growing up on Angel Island conditioned me to not care much for his team as a whole. In fact, those guys were part of an intense rivalry with my favorite team, the Exeter Extremix (I know, another awesome name). In that sense, playing against him would have been an experience in its own right. You could imagine the time of my life I was having, even if he hardly spoke with me, or with anyone, for that matter.

R/R Jeff - CF #9  
R/R Mina - SS #18  
R/R Kyle - C #6  
L/R Crush - 1B #25  
L/L Shonen - P #77  
L/R Rocky - 3B #16  
L/L Flame - RF #24  
R/R Tron - LF #51  
R/R Clay - 2B #30

Sonic struck out on three pitches to start the game. The anguished expression he sported back in the dugout following that performance quickly left his face when Jet the Hawk knocked the ball all the way to the right center field wall, allowing him to settle into second base. I took a practice swing immediately upon stepping into the box and proceeded to back away from the first toss, which zoomed by me at eye level. Talk about making a point. I whacked the next toss out to left field, the ball bouncing over anyone on the infield. Jet rounded third and made a run for home, but a cyborg hyena in left field was quick to scoop the ball in her glove and chuck it to a natural-colored wolf guarding the plate. Seeing this chaos unfurl, I tried for second base. True to my judgment, the ball sailed straight to the catcher for a close play at the plate while I coasted into the empty bag on the opposite part of the infield. When I turned around towards the plate, I noticed our dugout giving the hawk several high-fives and raised thumbs. That must have been a good sign.

I turned back around to view the big video replay board displaying the mess that went down at home plate. The catcher actually fielded the ball about two steps before Jet ever reached the plate. Since the ball was thrown straight from left field, you could imagine the masked creature guarding the plate, just ready to tag our baserunner out as soon as he got the ball. Jet also could've rammed right into the catcher to try to knock the ball out of his clamped glove, but I could think of at least two ways that might have been a bad idea. Instead, the speedy hawk jumped up and to the side such that when the catcher reached his catching arm out, he missed. The momentum of his jump pulled him a step ahead of the plate, so he jolted back to slap his dominant right hand there, quick enough to score the first run of the game. When the hawk saw, or heard, the "safe" call, he jumped to his feet in celebration, dazed but unhurt.

 **Storm 1, Rogues 0.**

I thought about stealing third base. That had no chance of coming full circle, what with the inevitable consequences that would've followed should I have been caught stealing, and Knuckles popping out to the shortstop right in front of me and then some burly albatross grounding out to first base.

On my long trek to right field, I half-observed Shadow, the ebony hedgehog perched atop the mound, casually tossing the ball as if trying to make a point. And make a point he did, with his very first pitch of the game zooming up in front of the batter's face. Geez, maybe save that for Kyle. But it didn't seem to matter much at first, as Shadow retired the first two batters he faced with little effort. And then came Kyle, the freshly groomed, naturally colored, not-so-big bad wolf. Contrary to what I saw coming, Shadow didn't throw the ball in front of his face. Instead, he threw it down the middle for a perfect strike. The wolf at the plate reacted accordingly, knocking it high into the air. The ball sailed at an alarming pace towards the right field wall. Wait, what?!

"I got it," I sighed, truly not knowing if I got it.

I turned around and ran to the wall, fixing my view towards the parabolic path of the ball (and my head didn't fall off). I noticed Sonic tailing me, then settling a few steps in front of the warning track. I found myself face to face with the wall and, seeing the ball coming down like an Armageddon flame, I jumped up, grasped the top of the wall with my dominant left hand, and stretched out the glove webbed over the only free hand I had left. The thudding sensation that struck the glove, coupled with the alarming realization that I actually reached the ball, caused my clamped glove to briefly hang over the wall, out of bounds. I pulled it back in and nonchalantly shuffled the ball back into my throwing hand as I, and later the rest of the squad, hustled off the field.

"That was a heck of a catch," Sonic shouted behind me, barely audible even over the silenced crowd.

I turned around in such a way that I was jogging backwards. "I learned it from you," I said in a half-hearted response. "That's the kind of play you have to make."

"No kidding," remembering the nice catch of his own that he had recently made.

Through the next few innings, I stayed mostly put in the "baseball ready" position: slightly squatted, standing lightly on my toes in anticipation of the next batted ball. For a while, every such ball stayed within the infield for a quick out. Then in the third inning, some half-robotic hyena stepped up and slapped the ball on the ground, skipping just past our albatross guarding first base. I could only field the ball and toss it lightly to second base, seeing to it that there was no longer a possibility of her advancing there. She would get to third base after the next guy, a mole with a short stature, whacked a fastball into the right center field gap such that neither I nor Sonic could catch it on the fly. I got my glove on the ball on a high bounce and relayed it back into the infield for Bunnie near second base, said mole sliding into the bag without a play. There was still nobody out. Following that turn of events, a guy known as Jeff Buck walked on four straight pitches. Smart.

I noticed Shadow throwing the ball even harder than he had been earlier. Perhaps it caught the mongoose taking her turn at the plate off guard, as she struck out on just four pitches. He continued to throw at an alarming speed to the naturally groomed wolf, but he wasn't biting. I had to think that Shadow was angry. He clearly seemed ready to fight someone at any given moment. In any case, the hitter drove the ebony hedgehog deep to left center field. Our speedy hawk tracked the ball and, settling a few steps ahead of the warning track, trapped the ball into his glove. Then the cyborg took off from third base, slowing down considerably about halfway to the plate, as Jet relayed the ball back into the infield. Wave the Swallow cut off the throw and eyed the runner at second, seeing to it that he didn't budge.

 **Storm 1, Rogues 1.**

The next guy, a more burly mole compared to the one on base, proceeded to whack a sharp liner up the middle. Shadow, thanks to some quick thinking, stretched his right hand out in front of him, right in the path of the speeding comebacker, clamping his glove shut as the ball thudded in there. Awesome, no more damage.

Pretty much nothing happened in the following inning. Then Shadow drew a six-pitch walk to lead off the fifth inning. As he trotted towards first base, he tossed his bat reasonably high into the air, his way of exorcising his recent frustration at the plate, even as it elicited a less-than-enthusiastic response from the understandably disgusted home crowd. Shadow seemed to enjoy this, judging by the slight snicker on his face. Out of curiosity, I turned around to see how Zenith was reacting to all of this. He just gave Shadow a subtle wink.

The next batter was Marine, who ended up doing a lot of waiting in the batter's box as the opposing pitcher chucked the ball several times to first base to keep Shadow at bay. Finally the left-handed hedgehog on the mound dealt to Marine. Shadow didn't budge. Strike one. The pitcher received the ball back and stared intently towards the speedster leading off the bag for a while before dealing another pitch to Marine. Shadow again didn't move a muscle. Strike two. The hedgehog continued to shuffle around the mound, eyeing the stitched ball intently as if figuring out what to do next. Shadow was pretending to scribble something in a geometric pattern on his ghost-colored jersey when the pitcher again zipped the ball to the badger covering first base, causing Shadow to alertly scurry back to the bag and cling onto it for life, saving himself a second round of embarrassment. Only when the ball zoomed back into the pitcher's glove did the ebony hedgehog think to hop back onto his feet. Unsurprisingly, he left his jersey alone this time as he waited... and waited... and waited. Finally Shonen dealt the pitch, and Shadow instinctively took off, chugging to second base with as much speed as an Ultimate Lifeform could muster. The wolf waited behind the plate, and as soon as he caught the ball he shuffled it back into his throwing hand and chucked it across the field, but oh, how far too late it was. In a manner that could only be compared to King of the Hill, Shadow had casually planted his foot atop the bag well ahead of the throw. I could only laugh in admiration of such a display as I peeped back at our dugout, where many of my teammates were celebrating in a similar fashion... except for Zenith, who simply smiled lightly. He seemed like the most loneliest guy in the ballpark.

The only downside to all this was that this pitch ended up being strike three — Marine had to take a seat. The next batter was Wave, who looked at the first pitch, which zoomed well below her knees, and then swung at the next pitch, a fastball straight down the middle, knocking it high into the air. Unfortunately, the ball didn't get past the infield, and the shortstop settled right in front of Shadow to make the easy catch. Shadow had been sort of hovering a few steps off of the bag, and he scuttled back as the catch was made. I noticed Wave retreating at a sluggish pace back to our dugout, evidently frustrated from being unable to deliver in a tight situation. Before Bunnie Rabbot strolled up to the plate, she patted the dejected swallow on the back, seeming to give her words of encouragement. Wave sat quietly on the dugout bench, setting her batting equipment directly below her, and watched on as Bunnie stepped into the batter's box, awaiting Shonen's first toss of the ball, at which I somehow anticipated she would swing hard. I guess I surprised myself — she whacked that first pitch sharply up the middle, the ball bouncing over anyone's outstretched gloves and into shallow center field, Shadow making a mad dash from second base, soon passing third. The speedy buck guarding that area seemed to take his sweet time relaying the ball back to the infield as the ebony hedgehog coasted to home plate, having already nullified any chance of a play there.

 **Storm 2, Rogues 1.**

Sonic reached base by way of a four-pitch walk, but Jet would ground out to end the inning.

The following frame looked to be not nearly as stellar as our last, as Knuckles and I both struck out swinging for two quick outs. When Storm came up, the opposing pitcher seemed to stumble with his tosses, starting with a pitch that sailed well over his head. The unsuspecting catcher had to leap like a full meter above ground to somehow trap the ball in his glove before it could get by him. This would have been a great play to save a run, except there were no baserunners. Then something bizarre went down, with the next pitch being the exact opposite, a low breaking ball that bounced off the turf just before reaching the plate. Storm, seeming to be out of his mind, swung at the ball just after it had bounced and somehow made contact, blooping it into shallow left field. Nobody in the ball's path moved a muscle. It was like they couldn't believe what just happened. Sure enough, the ball dropped into no man's land, giving Storm perhaps the most unlikely base hit of the series.

Shadow would be next to bat, tallying his second plate appearance in as many innings. His stellar plate discipline from the previous inning seemed to carry over to this one, as he laid off the first four pitches, only one of which caught the strike zone. With the count at 3-1, Shadow turned towards the dugout again, giving me the impression that Zenith would have something to say about what was transpiring before him. He just gave Shadow another wink. The ebony hedgehog casually shuffled back into the batter's box, staring down the nerve-wracked pitcher. He swung mightily at the next pitch and with a loud crack of the bat, gave the ball a ride. I think everyone at the ballpark knew that ball wasn't coming back, as made evident by the deafening silence that overtook the crowd, contrasting sharply to the sudden ruckus caused by our dugout, and we only got more rowdy as Shadow stomped on home plate and proceeded to slap all of our raised hands in celebration.

 **Storm 2-Run Home Run: #27 Shadow the Hedgehog.**

 **Storm 4, Rogues 1.**

I love this game.

After our turn had come to an end, who but Kyle led it off for the other guys in the bottom of the inning. The first pitch was a blazing fastball down the middle. He swung just a tad late. Strike one. Moments later, the second pitch. This one landed high and a touch outside the strike zone, but I guess the home plate umpire thought otherwise. Strike two. The evidently discouraged wolf immediately expressed his displeasure with this call, which of course you're not supposed to do. Eventually he settled down a little, enough to get to see the third pitch, another heater that seemed to have "home run" written all over it. Understandably, he swung. Suddenly the ball dipped well below the zone, meaning he missed entirely. Strike three, see ya. The wolf continued to flip, at which point the home plate umpire violently motioned the disgruntled wolf off the playing grounds altogether, effectively ejecting him. For a while thereafter, the two continued to exchange words. Even I was getting a kick out of this display, as I found myself wondering what else could go our way. As it turned out, I would have to put that thought on hold as the next batter actually did something and drove his first pitch far enough to the point where I ran back into the warning track following the path of the ball, but eventually all I could do was stop in front of the wall and watch it settle into the seats. Suddenly the crowd had been brought back to life.

 **Rogues Solo Home Run: #25 Crush the Badger.**

 **Storm 4, Rogues 2.**

The next batter up was Shonen, and in another duel of pitcher vs. pitcher, Shadow won by retiring his rival on strikes. The last pitch was actually dangerously located, a sharp-breaking curveball that broke straight into the strike zone; he just didn't swing. The batter after that did swing — knocking the ball into the gap in left-center field, giving Rocky a two-out stand-up double. And then came Flame the Hedgehog, the color of his fur complimenting his name. Shadow gave him another screaming fastball down the zone, at which this hedgehog alertly swung, slapping the ball into shallow center field stopping in front of Sonic. Rocky would score easily, while the hedgehog, known for his power, stopped after crossing first base after thinking about testing the Blue Blur's relay back to the infield.

 **Storm 4, Rogues 3.**

Leave it to that half-robotic hyena to ground out to Storm, who casually took it to first base himself to end that mess.

Following that display, the other guys had to bring in this cyborg hyena from the outfield to guard home plate while they sent some grimaced rabbit into left field to take the hyena's place. He seemed to have a knack for just staring into the distance — it was hard to tell for sure, but at times I thought he was actually looking towards me. By the time the ninth inning came around, they had replaced their pitcher too, sending in their usual closer to try to keep our offense at bay. The leopard on the mound looked to do just that with Shadow after throwing two straight strikes. Then the ebony hedgehog, having apparently mastered the art of hitting, kept the at-bat going by fouling off pitch after pitch while also laying off the bad ones, ultimately drawing a walk on the tenth pitch. Marine batted next and impressively did the same thing, earning a free pass from grinding out six pitches.

Following a peculiar hand signal from Zenith, likely the first time I'd seen it, Wave the Swallow laid a bunt down the first base line, allowing both Shadow and Marine to advance a base as the only play was to first base to get Wave out. As she returned to the dugout, several of our players, myself included, gave her congratulatory remarks and high-fives for advancing both runners into scoring position on the sacrifice bunt.

Xander stayed on the mound and curiously pitched to Bunnie, getting two quick strikes on two nasty backdoor sliders. Bunnie then swung at a high fastball, popping it straight into the air. The ball only thudded into the emergency catcher's mitt after hanging for like, six seconds. I watched in anticipation as Sonic stepped in to face the other guys' star closer pitching in a non-save situation. I thought it peculiar again to see Xander pitching to the Blue Blur batting from the right side, instead of walking him so he could pitch to Jet. Instead, he watched a slider go in on his knees for ball one. Unfazed, Sonic slapped the next pitch up the middle, lacing the ball high enough for it to elude the outstretched gloves of the middle infielders. Shadow casually crossed home plate and turned around to watch Marine fly around third base. Meanwhile, the ball was zooming back to home plate on a one-bounce throw by the center fielder. Xander ended up cutting the ball off from the mound as Marine plated our sixth run of the game. Just about everyone in our elated dugout was wildly appreciative of that hit.

 **Storm 6, Rogues 3.**

It became clear Shadow didn't want to leave the pitching mound. Entering the bottom of the ninth, he appeared to be pitching harder and with more aggression than ever, starting with him throwing a fastball to Rocky that clocked in at 150 kilometers per hour. Oh my dang. Usually it was only Zenith pitching that fast. Nonetheless, he got the batter to nub the next pitch. The ball never got past the hitting circle, allowing Knuckles to casually pick it up and throw it to Storm for the first out. The flame-colored hedgehog's at-bat was basically the same story, but his little dribbler actually reached Shadow. That cyborg hyena managed to extend the inning by slapping a hit into left field, but Clay the Mole wound up Shadow's last strikeout victim, swinging at a curveball that broke into the dirt. Knuckles had to block the ball from getting past him, as unpredictable as the ball's path could get, but by then Clay was alertly running to first base. Knuckles's throw to Storm was seamless and in time, and that was the ball game.

 **FINAL: Storm 6, Rogues 3.**

I was as elated as anyone hanging out on the field in celebration of our third win in a row.

Everyone was giving each other enthusiastic high-fives, myself included. In particular, Sonic, Jet and Knuckles all gave me notably encouraging comments that may or may not have related to my own performance through the series. To the speedy hawk I brought up how well he had demonstrated his baserunning ability. This led to a casual conversation in which we shared our favorite plays through the last five games.

I was the last one to return to the dugout that evening. By this point everyone was now hanging out in the clubhouse doing whatever. As I casually walked through the hall leading to the clubhouse, I started hearing a peculiar rhythmic noise. I didn't pay any mind to it as I walked in to find everyone still chatting with each other, some having already taken off their jerseys. Still, someone seemed to be missing...

"Hey, Verne..."

So that voice must've been following me. That slightly-deep, Mazurite-accented voice. I felt like I'd heard it before but couldn't quite place his name. I turned around on the spot and — "Oh, hi Zenith." Ok. Don't freak out, now. "You feeling alright?"

"Oh yes," he replied shortly. I guess he'd been asked that before. "I'm just dandy. I think the other blokes are all dandy too, and I really like to see that."

"They should be. We're going back home with a chance to clinch the series, am I right?"

"Oy..." the tall red hedgehog interjected. He'd probably heard that enough as well. "You gave me a heck of a performance out there, you know that?"

"Hey, I learned it from the best," I snickered.

"Yes," he sighed, "yes you did..."

Something wasn't adding up. His face stayed totally blank as he spoke — it almost seemed mindless. Was he truly feeling alright?

"Can I ask you something?"

Zenith's response was unbelievably quick: "Shoot."

Thus I shot with careful consideration, "You're still retiring from baseball after this year..."

"That's the plan." And nothing was going to change that.

"So... what led you to make that decision?"

He blinked once after I finished my inquiry. I could tell he was thinking long and hard about his response. He seemed to be just staring into my face, whether blankly or intently. I remembered that he always looked to have everything and nothing on his mind at the same time. But the blank expression on his face dragged on for I don't know how long. I started to wonder if he even heard me, or if he remembered what I said. The longer he stared, the more tense I got myself, wondering if I should question my question. What was he thinking about?

He blinked once more, and at that instant he came to his senses. I almost didn't know what to make of it. Was he having a flashback? I realized I was too afraid to ask anything else.

"In my office," motioning his right index finger behind me, the way to said enclosed room within the clubhouse.

I paced rather swiftly into his office, Zenith tailing right behind me. As I walked in, I took a seat in front of what I presumed to be his desk. The towering hedgehog precariously closed off the door behind me and sat behind his empty workspace, full of all sorts of papers, most neatly stacked accordingly, some laid out in no conceivable pattern. Surrounding us over the walls were a bevy of soundproof foams stacked in a checkerboard formation, allowing everything in the room to be heard and canceling all sound coming from the locker rooms. As a result, the room was so quiet to the point where it felt deafening; I began to hear everything from my breath to my heartbeat, which only intensified the more I thought about it.

"It's a long story, but..."

This is going to be good.


	7. Beginning in Earnest

**Rogues vs. Storm — Game 6 (Storm Lead 3-2)**

I couldn't believe it. Five grueling nights of baseball, which included a miraculous three consecutive wins on enemy turf, led to this moment. I was picturing this scenario in my head through most of the series, but after a while I started to question if I'd get to see it at all. But the wait was finally over. Right here, right now, I realized it would become reality.

Zenith was finally going to bat.

R/R Sonic - RF #15  
S/R Zenith - P #13  
L/L Shadow - LF #27  
L/L Verne - CF #8  
R/R Knuckles - C #3  
L/R Storm - 1B #20  
R/R Marine - 3B #11  
R/R Sticks - SS #6  
R/R Tails - 2B #10

Ok, I lied. I totally saw it coming.

As you might have noticed, Zenith was a switch-hitter. In the Turbo League, switch-hitters were an anomaly, since players almost always learned to bat from one particular side of the plate, just as pretty much everyone learned to throw with one hand or another. There had been a growing trend of not necessarily hitting and throwing with the same hand, as different scenarios in baseball were often favorable to players of different handedness, such as the bizarrely ominous fact that nobody had ever seen a left-handed catcher. There had also been a small handful of switch-hitters to play ball since him, but I'm pretty sure Zenith was the first to do it. The caveat was that he always did it the wrong way. For you see, if a right-handed pitcher was on the mound, a switch-hitter would typically bat from the left side, and vice versa. This was supposed to give the hitter a better view of the pitch as it came to him. For whatever reason, Zenith did the opposite of that, and he just stuck with it his whole career. Perhaps the strangest thing to all this was his very different statistics from both sides of the plate: his batting average was far superior from the right side, and yet nearly all of the 96 home runs he'd hit were from the left side. So with the right-hander Lavender the Rabbit due to pitch to our guys tonight, Zenith would bat right-handed, which meant he would, hopefully, somehow get on base a lot. Hopefully. Somehow.

I met up with Zenith during batting practice. He was switching sides back and forth between practice pitches, another thing most switch-hitters didn't do. The logic was that he was going to likely bat from the right side most of the game and thus should have been warming up his swing only from that side. What was the point of alternating sides during practice?

"Just in case," was all he would say, leaving me to scratch my strikingly bright blue quills in confusion.

"Hey Sonic, you gonna make another nice catch tonight?" the young outfielder tittered towards me as we took our positions in front of our undeniably passionate home crowd, the energetic bat perched in the center of the outfield and myself situated a country mile to his left, both of us now donning the same black jerseys that we'd worn for the first two games.

"I don't know, Verne," I chortled back. "That right-field wall is awfully high up, don't you think?"

"Nothing's too high up," shifting to a more assuring tone. "I've seen a few circus catches."

"I guess we'll see," I remarked, chuckling.

R/R Jeff - CF #9  
R/R Mina - SS #18  
L/L Flame - RF #24  
R/R Kyle - C #6  
L/R Crush - 1B #25  
L/L Shonen - LF #77  
L/R Rocky - 3B #16  
R/R Tron - 2B #51  
R/R Lavender - P #40

Zenith worked his magic on the mound through the first inning, amplifying his towering presence with three straight strikeouts. I led off the following frame, taking two pitches before hitting a grounder to the burly badger near first base who took it there himself for the first out. I was intrigued all day by how Zenith would fare at the bat, so I listened in just as I took my seat in the dugout.

" _Batting second for the Storm: the pitcher, #13: Zenith the Hedgehog."_

Much of the crowd also seemed interested by the at-bat that was going down.

I anticipated Zenith would take the first pitch. He did. The ball zoomed right down the middle. He stepped out of the batter's box for a brief moment and seemed to take his sweet time digging back in and preparing for the next pitch. Lavender threw a changeup that also landed in the zone, apparently. Zenith wouldn't have any of that. The next pitch, another changeup that dipped below his knees. After that, a fastball that he had to back up to avoid, which understandably disgusted the home crowd. He finally swung at a fastball and ended up hitting it pretty hard. The ball zipped through the air down the first base line, right into the waiting glove of Crush — an unlucky lineout that kept us at bay through the rest of the inning.

Zenith picked up where he left off, striking out the infamous opposing catcher. I guess we'd collectively reduced Kyle the Wolf to an afterthought. Also, I probably hadn't seen the tall red hedgehog throw four strikeouts in a row to start a game. This streak was efficiently dashed as Crush smoked a very fast fastball, sending it flying well over my head. I could only throw my hands up in disgust as I watched the ball settled into the seats situated atop the gigantic right-field wall.

 **Rogues Solo Home Run: #25 Crush the Badger.**

 **Rogues 1, Storm 0.**

I found myself staring at the wall for no apparent reason. It was only that tall since they had to make room for right field, as the bunch of seats that would have otherwise taken up much of the outfield were only used for football matches. Such was the peculiarity of the Labyrinth, this hybrid stadium containing all of us in the heart of the declining downtown area of Mazuri, where Zenith grew up. I had to think he single-handedly made baseball extremely popular in Mazuri, a place that had been historically cut off from the rest of the world. As well as hockey. And basketball, to an extent. Not football; that had been here ages prior. It was probably invented here. No wonder this place could seat 80,000 fans.

After the home run, I started to feel uneasy. The rule was that as the team captain, Zenith would be required to start the first game of the series as a pitcher as well as the seventh, if necessary. He was also mandated to exercise the starting pitcher role in either the third or fourth game, but he was only allowed to start in a maximum of four games. Technically still, he could pitch in all seven games of a series if he wanted to, but most pitchers wouldn't do that as it would wear them out before they were slated to make their next start. With that in mind, I wondered for how long Zenith would stay in this game, and whether he would be ready to pitch tomorrow should we have lost tonight.

Nonetheless, Zenith retained his composure enough to get out of the inning without taking any more damage and escaped a bases-loaded jam the following inning. Our own jungle badger struck out to lead off the bottom of the third, but Tails managed to lace a ground ball up the middle for a base hit. With the middle-aged fox chilling near first base, knowing he wasn't going to try to steal anytime soon, I was hoping to get close to driving him in, but when I made contact, the ball didn't travel very far, bouncing very high right to Lavender, who simply threw the ball to first to get me out as Tails coasted into second base. Then Zenith came up and once again took four pitches in a row, working the count to 2-2. It was like he wasn't even holding a bat. He swung at the next pitch, but it deflected up and into the netting behind everyone, so the count stayed 2-2. The umpire handed a brand new ball to the wolf behind the plate, who in turn casually tossed the ball to the waiting rabbit on the mound, after which the hedgehog in the batter's box took a practice swing. He proceeded to line the following pitch, a not-so-fast fastball right down the middle, into short right-center field. The fox hovering near second base just bolted. He wasn't the fastest runner on our squad, and his running speed had noticeably declined over the years, but he chugged on past third base. I could tell he really wanted to score on Zenith's base hit. I could also tell that the play at home would be close. By contrast, Zenith had just rounded first base by the time the flame-colored hedgehog in right field picked up the ball. He was at second base in about eight seconds, reaching the bag standing up as the ball zoomed over to the plate to try to nab the twin-tailed fox racing there. He dove head-first for the dish, stretching out his left hand in an effort to slap it, right as the catcher lunged at him with a sweeping tag, grazing his floating tails.

"Safe!"

Wow, that was way too close.

 **Rogues 1, Storm 1.**

Our dugout erupted following the play. It was definitely up there in the catalog of "little guy" moments. I soon noticed that Tails was slow to prop himself up, so I ran out to find him lying near the plate, definitively exhausted as his tails had flopped to the ground, his face covered in dirt.

"Tails! Are you alright, buddy?"

All I heard at first was a slight moan. In a moment, Zenith was here too, after he'd called time or something. I asked the fox if he was hurting anywhere, because assisting him to his feet after suffering an injury was undeniably a catastrophic idea. Suddenly he propped his face out of the dirt.

"I'm... I'm fine," the fox stammered. "W-was I going... too fast?"

I chuckled a little. That was my little bro, alright.

After a brief round of conversing back and forth between the three of us to get as much information about his condition as possible, the fox was back on his feet. The crowd gave a very nice ovation as I walked with him back to the dugout and Zenith meanwhile reclaimed his position at second base. Shadow later reached on a walk, but both hedgehogs got left on the basepaths as Verne lined out to the shortstop. Such would turn out to be the story of the game. In the fourth inning, both Knuckles and Sticks got on base with hits into left field, but they would both be stranded as Silver, who had entered the game defensively to replace Tails, grounded out to end the inning.

I struck out to begin the bottom of the fifth. As I slowly trotted back to the dugout, giving a word of encouragement to the towering hedgehog of dull red as I passed him, I came to the realization that I wasn't having the best day at the plate. Sooner or later, after looking back and forth from the scoreboard to the crimson-furred giant at the plate, I figured everyone in our dugout must have been thinking the same thing, except for Zenith. He took the first four pitches for a third time in a row, but this time only one of them caught the zone. Three balls, one strike. I found it hilarious that Lavender was still pitching, as I would've expected him to go after Zenith for once. What was the point of not throwing strikes if he was never going to swing at them anyway? Or did he just have terrible control of his pitches? In any event, the next pitch landed well below the knees, earning Zenith a free pass to first base. He was slow to return his sticky to our dugout, as if in disbelief to what just happened, before finally trotting down the base line. As the lavender-flavored rabbit on the mound received the ball again, he fixed a menacing glare towards the dullish-red hedgehog, even walking a few paces towards first base as the unquestionably fast runner reached the bag, I guess to intimidate him into staying there, like I'd seen time and time again throughout this series. But Zenith took a hard left after stomping on the bag and immediately took six-or-so steps ahead of the bag before making a sudden move back, prompting the rabbit off the mound to chuck the ball to Crush, who had made a sudden move of himself to cover first base, but just as he released the ball, Zenith suddenly bolted to an unguarded second base. He had deked the pitcher. The buff badger previously covering first was left to chase the flying red hedgehog down until some mongoose finally went to guard second, at which point he threw the ball to said mongoose who reached below to tag Zenith, who in turn slid head first to beat the tag. "Safe" was the call. As it would later turn out following a lengthy review, he had actually slid past second, but he'd somehow maintained one point of contact with the bag at all times as he slid, so the "safe" call stood.

By now most of us were losing our minds, just as well as I realized we had schooled Lavender a second time with heads-up baserunning, and this time it wasn't even entirely his fault, but that didn't seem to matter to the other guys. Demitri came onto the field to take the ball away from the evidently frustrated rabbit, effectively rendering his night over. To rub salt on the wound, the crowd serenaded him in a taunting manner as he left the playing field. Meanwhile Demitri motioned towards left field, after which the hedgehog occupying that area hustled into the infield to take the pitcher's mound, as a somewhat nerdy-looking mole replaced him in left field. Now Shadow was going to face the left-handed Shonen with Zenith hovering about nine steps ahead of second. Or maybe he wasn't — the well-groomed wolf behind the plate stood up and motioned his catching glove to his left. They were going to intentionally walk Shadow. That made sense. But first he threw the ball to the cyborg hyena now guarding second, but Zenith was back in time. The hyena then pretended to throw the ball back, but the tall red hedgehog pointed a finger up towards her without getting up at all as if to say, "I saw that!" Finally she threw the ball for real, and he was back on his toes, again eight-or-nine paces ahead of the bag. The intentional walk was still on for Shadow. Looking back and forth between Zenith and his target standing behind the plate, Shonen threw the ball, and there went Zenith once again as predicted. Shonen's throw turned out to be an actual pitch, a fastball well above the zone over the plate. Good thinking. Zenith was about halfway to third when the catcher caught the ball, and his throw to the buff mole covering third was on target. You could not have been more accurate than that. Also, it was in time to make the easy tag for once. Instead, Zenith swerved to his right as he slid head first, reached his right hand to touch third, and then basically clung to the bag with both feet. Safe again. Under review again. Call confirmed again. What the fudgesicle.

By this point I was honestly hoping he wasn't planning on stealing home. Luckily he didn't, as the next three pitches were all fastballs that missed the zone for a four-pitch walk that I figured was just their planned intentional walk in disguise. Verne was up next, clearly wanting to release his growing frustration at the plate, but with the left-handed Shonen dealing to him, it seemed harder than ever for anyone to get on base now. Indeed, the young outfielder swung his sticky right through the first pitch, a curveball that broke below the knees. Shaking his head in disgust, he stepped out of the box to take several practice swings, seeming to take his sweet time getting set for the next pitch, another curveball, this one breaking into his wheelhouse. The bat at the plate reacted accordingly, blooping the ball into short right field. This allowed Zenith to nonchalantly shuffle to home plate to score the go-ahead run.

 **Storm 2, Rogues 1.**

Shadow meanwhile held up at second base, after taking a huge turn from the bag. He seriously thought about going there, but it wouldn't matter as Knuckles grounded into a rally-stopping double play to end the inning.

Jeff, probably no relation to Joe, legged out an infield base hit to begin the sixth, prompting Zenith to give a lengthy stare of his own towards first base, where the speedy buck stayed for the moment.

"The buck stops here," I snorted to myself.

He struck out that one mongoose, getting her to chase a high fastball, which she likely thought would break back into the strike zone. Then the flame-colored hedgehog with the very fitting name slapped a line drive into right center field. I had to cut it off on the run and throw it back in as hard as I could, thinking I could throw out Jeff going for third base. Silver cut off my throw, seeing as it had no chance to beat the buck there. Still with one out, Kyle hit a high fly ball that traveled pretty far into straightaway center field, so I knew I couldn't do anything about it. The ivory-flavored bat hovering in that general area called it off anyway, backing up a few steps at first, then slowly shuffling forward to get a running start as he caught the ball and threw it back with all his might. The ball sailed over anyone's head, flying straight to Knuckles, who was a step in front of the plate so as not to get called for interference. He trapped the ball into his catching glove and immediately swept it to his left to tag Jeff, but he had beaten the tag. So close to a double play.

 **Rogues 2, Storm 2.**

Flame meanwhile had advanced to second amid the ensuing chaos. He would be stranded there as Crush sent another fly ball straight to Verne, who caught it in the webbed glove over his right hand to end the inning.

Shonen got two quick outs to begin the bottom of the sixth, striking out Storm and getting Marine to softly bounce the ball back to the hedgehog on the mound, who casually flipped the ball to Crush. With his wall of experience playing first base, it came as no surprise that Shonen was masterful at fielding, as most players who specialized in pitching had cases of the yips when it came to fielding routine plays, or even throwing the ball in a non-pitching motion. I hadn't seen Zenith have that kind of difficulty, which made me wonder why he never played center field or something. In any case, Sticks followed up on her prior performance on the night by taking a ball and a strike, something she probably needed to do in her first at-bat against Shonen since the second game of the series, in which the pitcher most likely had her number. But this was a whole new game, and the entire Rogues squad was showing signs of mortality. Maybe the jungle badger could beat him on a mistake pitch.

Wouldn't you know it, she did.

 **Storm Solo Home Run: #6 Sticks the Badger.**

 **Storm 3, Rogues 2.**

At this rate, everyone in our dugout would have a home run by the end of this playoff run, even Zenith, who was more than a year removed from his last big fly, and after all these years had never hit one in postseason play, apparently. Speaking of, with the left-handed Shonen staying on the mound for the innings to come, Zenith was now forced to bat from the left side, and his sharply contrasting numbers at the plate certainly showed as he looked massively uncomfortable swinging his sticky. He took the first pitch as usual, but then immediately went to full-on attack mode, fouling off a low changeup and then missing a moderately high fastball altogether.

I was getting antsy now as the game progressed further. By the ninth inning I was a hot mess. There was no way anyone could be comfortable protecting a one-run lead with three outs to go and Zenith about to deal to the heart of the opposing lineup, starting with Kyle, who drove a high fly ball out to my area, which I knew almost instantaneously would sail over my head. The ball bounced off the towering wall looming over right field, and I was left to field it on a high bounce and then chuck it to Silver hovering near second base as the wolf slid there behind him. I guess the silver-colored hedgehog with the very fitting name had a feeling that the runner would beat the play.

At this point I couldn't comprehend the crazy abundance of right-handers hitting opposite-field fly balls. It made no sense. I got the idea to play deep a few steps as Crush returned to the plate, having already homered off Zenith in this game, in his first at-bat. Surely he, a left-handed hitter, would never hit the ball deep into left field.

I spoke too soon, didn't I. Well, at least it was caught.

Zenith started to drag on every pitch by the time Shonen came up. I remembered that he never liked to walk anyone, especially on purpose. I probably shared his own sentiment of finding it detrimental to walk a left-handed hitter who could hit for power with another batter of the same style waiting patiently on deck. That idea wouldn't matter much since the opposing hedgehog nubbed the ball down the first base line, only getting halfway to the bag and staying fair, forcing Zenith to pick it up with his throwing hand and flip it on the run to Storm covering first as Kyle dug safely into third. Nice play nonetheless.

The age-old question from the last batter arose when Rocky the Mole took his turn at the plate, and the echidna behind the plate indeed signaled to his left for the intentional walk. The dull red hedgehog on the mound threw one ball, and then Knuckles ran up to chat with him in private. I guess Zenith wouldn't have any of that, or perhaps he was questioning whether he should really be walking batters with a chance to close out the series. After a while, Knux patted his pitcher on the shoulder and returned to his position, where he remained standing towards his left, again signaling for the intentional walk. As the burly mole trotted to first base, I checked out Zenith's pitch count: exactly 125 pitches. Crazily enough, that wasn't close to his all-time high. But then again, he'd likely never faced the prospect of having to pitch the next night after having thrown that many pitches.

Rocky soon left the playing field, as an unfamiliar player rushed onto the field to take his place as a pinch-runner. At least I'd never seen him before. The PA announcer addressed him as Ross the Cheetah. It made so much sense. Now the cyborg hyena, a right-handed hitter for once, was at the plate. Zenith again waited for what seemed like forever before delivering his signature fast fastball, this time performing a slide step move to get the ball to the catcher even sooner than otherwise. Ross stayed put at first. Zenith received the ball back, then paced back and forth around the mound for a while, eyeing the cheetah hovering near first for again, what seemed like an eternity. I was getting even more antsy and started to ponder if either of the runners would consider stealing a base then. In such a trying situation, Zenith certainly had his hands full. Nonetheless, he finally came into the stretch, at which both runners got set. As the towering hedgehog began his motion, the cheetah darted to second. He had picked a good pitch to steal on, a slow screwball designed to break down and in. And yet, Tron made contact with the ball, striking it with enough force to have it sail over Zenith's outstretched right hand. The ball passed by all the infielders as it rolled deep into the left-center field gap.

"Oy," I grumbled in unison with the home crowd. With the wolf scoring easily from third base, this game was far from over.

The cheetah was flying around the bases as the ivory-furred bat tracked down the ball a few steps ahead of the warning track. By the time he finally picked it up, Ross had made the sharp turn around third base. Knowing that the runner was about to score the go-ahead run, Verne very quickly wound up a desperation throw and unloaded a cannon that seemed to disappear into the night sky like all those home runs we'd launched over the last six nights. The amazing part was that the throw was yet again on target, thudding right into the waiting catching glove of Knuckles, who alertly swerved to his left and reached his clamped glove to tag the cheetah, who in turn had swerved to his right to slide away from the tag in the first place.

"YOU'RE OUT!"

Are you kidding me, Verne.

 **Rogues 3, Storm 3.**

"You just saved the game right there, you know that?" I shouted to that five-tool center fielder as we all congregated back in our dugout.

"What did I tell you?" he barked back after we'd both taken our seats. Only Shadow sat between us as Zenith leaned on the dugout fence in sheer anticipation because he too was antsy. "You have to make those plays. Remember that drill we did the other night?"

"You mean the one where you tried to throw me out?"

He nodded. "That's the one."

"Yeah, where did you get an arm like that, anyway?"

For the long minutes that followed my prompt, it was the young bat describing his juvenile years when he first learned to baseball. His favorite position growing up was shortstop, but he eventually learned that he was under a huge disadvantage at playing shortstop on account of him being naturally left-handed, of course, leading him to convert to being an outfielder, evidently allowing him to build up his speed. I was so absorbed into his story that I had to be snapped out of it by the rest of the team warning me that I was on deck. I was warming up my swing in the on-deck circle when I noticed that Ross had stayed in the game for the bottom half, taking Rocky's position at third base. Meanwhile, they had handed the ball to Xander. Oh boy. Also, Blaze was now hitting in Silver's spot with one out. Wow, long time no see. Zenith must've been really banking on finishing the game now. Putting Blaze in probably wouldn't accomplish this, but at least Blaze would have a favorable matchup batting from the right side against the left-hander trying to keep the game tied. This wouldn't matter much as the lavender-ish cat skied the ball to short center field where the waiting buck trapped it into his glove to record the second out.

I was breathing deeply as I entered the batter's box, hoping to get something done. It would have to be me. The first pitch was a low fastball, one that I had to take, and I was going to take it anyway. That meant I was also going to take the next pitch, another fastball that scraped above the knees for a strike. Now I was going to protect the plate. But I laid off a slider that broke inside of the zone, thankfully not close to hitting me. I swung at the next pitch but ended up deflecting it back into the netting guarding against the especially passionate fans. I deflected another fastball over our dugout, then laid off a curveball that took a wicked bounce, somehow landing in the unnamed catcher's glove. I fouled off another high fastball, this one going over the netting. With the count still full, I decided based on a random last-second hunch not to swing at the next pitch. It broke down and in, just missing the zone. Ball four. I casually tossed my sticky towards our dugout and took first base like a boss. And by that I mean I pretended to pick it up and hog it. In truth, I had my foot planted on the bag as soon as I had stepped on it, because I figured Xander would actually throw the ball to the first baseman for once to make sure I stayed there. He didn't. It wasn't like we hadn't pulled off enough baserunning tricks, anyway.

Zenith strolled into the batter's box, batting once again from the left side as expected, and after a long wait from the pitcher who had his view half-fixed at me, he took strike one. I realized at that moment that I could steal second off him, but I decided against it; I wasn't going to get caught stealing to end the inning. Besides, Zenith would have signaled in some way had he wanted me to steal. Meanwhile the towering hedgehog at the plate fouled off a moderately low fastball, putting him in a hole already, so more than likely it wouldn't matter. But he hung in there, taking a ball below the knees and then laying off a slider that broke down and away. I had to think for him it would have been quite difficult to not swing at that. He did swing at the next pitch, but fouled it over the opponents' dugout. Then he took another slider that broke down and away. All this time the badger guarding first base was monitoring me closely with his foot on the bag, ready to catch a pickoff throw. Now with a full count, he shuffled off the bag and settled well behind me. I was free to run. But just after I darted for second, I realized I had to go back when I saw the batted ball hooking foul, flying into the left field bleachers.

I fixated my view to Zenith, waiting anxiously to see if he would signal anything. He didn't. I was going to run, and he was going to continue to protect the plate. So I waited five-or-six paces ahead of the bag, leaning on my toes, until the leopard on the mound finally began his delivery. Then, I bolted again. Then, a loud crack of the bat. Then, a deafening roar to drown out all other sound. That must have been a good sign. I had no time to turn around to see where Zenith had hit the ball, but I figured it went somewhere in right field. All I knew was to run, run, run.

I cut sharply across second base and to my surprise found a clear path to third, the buff mole in closest proximity to the bag making no effort to guard it. I charged along, putting every bit of stamina I had into my feet to get there as quickly as I could. I would finally get a chance to turn and look for the ball as I passed third base. Observing my view after having taken another sharp turn, I noticed everyone waiting anxiously in our dugout from about thirty meters away, jumping up and down excitedly. I finally saw the ball coming back in from deep right field, not nearly as quickly as I'd just seen from Verne minutes prior. I noticed Zenith was about to race past second base as well, perhaps knowing it wasn't him the defense would be going after. I knew, of course, that everyone was depending on me. I was going to score on this play or die trying.

In front of home plate, his left foot planted there to guard it, the closest a catcher could get without getting called for blocking the plate, was Kyle the Wolf waiting to catch the ball. I was about halfway home when I stopped caring where the ball was. For a split second, I considered ramming into the catcher in an effort to knock the ball out of his glove should he have beaten me to the punch. Traditionally, a runner would have been called safe if the catcher failed to hold onto the ball when applying the tag. Then I remembered that I was an aging hedgehog that was somehow playing baseball following an agonizingly long hiatus, way past my prime, and it was my fault that pretty much everyone else on Zenith's unexpected playoff squad had gone through the same deal. I had allowed Tails to wear his pitching arm out, I had let Shadow get way too competitive, I had exposed Knuckles to unruly baserunners all over again, and I had dragged Amy along for the ride even though I knew she could have gone into labor without notice. Also, I had convinced Zenith to abandon that misfit roster that had helped him get into the Turbo League Championship Series in the first place. Two of his best outfielders had suffered devastating injuries early in the season, and now they weren't allowed to play at all, or even watch the games from our dugout. And after all that, I was about to win the Turbo League pennant for the Zenith Storm with a well-timed slide.

Wait a minute. That was what I wanted all along.

That was what Zenith wanted all along.

No. After everything all of us had been through, I couldn't stop here.

I had to finish it once and for all.

I dove head-first, sliding under the baffled catcher's ill-timed sweeping tag.

I had plated the game-winning run.

The series-winning run.

The run heard 'round the world.

 **FINAL: Storm 4, Rogues 3.**

The madness that ensued near home plate felt massively surreal. I could tell I was being mobbed as the entire dugout emptied and jumped around in celebration with me in the middle of the pile, but I couldn't feel anything. I was probably too ecstatic to care, anyway. After all, I'd just won for Zenith only his second pennant in 51 years. This Dream Team that I had played a huge part in assembling, took down a real team to claim the title of Turbo League Champions. How did we do it? Nobody knows. If you think you know, please go to the reviews section and get in a huge fight.

As the euphoric celebration died down, I was left with the ominous realization that our return-to-baseball odyssey was far from over, that the quest for the coveted Gold Cup was only beginning in earnest. But first...

"Zenith?" I called out, not finding him anywhere in the scrum. "Where are you?"


End file.
